Algebra
by pinkpearl89
Summary: This isn't possible. I wasn't supposed to live, it wasn't part of the equation. See, the x balances the equation. I was the x. But I was supposed to cancel out. And I didn't. So what now?-The aftermath of Harry Potter. Please read & review :
1. Romantic Equations

Hello everyone!

This is Harry Potter's story after the war. I know it's been written before (many, _many_ times) but I wanted to give it a try. So here is chapter one, my way.

**Disclaimer: Blanket disclaimer, Harry Potter and all of his wonderful friends aren't mine. If I make up a character that I can call my own, I'll let you know :)**

hhhhhhhhh

He stood there by the lake, looking for all the world like a statue of a god. He was perfectly still, and his muscles were taut as though waiting for another attack. Well, what little muscle he had left anyway. I imagine he didn't really have any buffets to eat while he was gone.

"Hey," I said quietly. I wasn't even sure he would really hear me.

But he turned.

"Hey," he whispered back.

I stared into those bottle-green eyes and, for the first time in a long time, I felt tears in my eyes.

"Hey," he said, a bit more urgently as he rushed to me, "Don't cry, please don't cry…"

His arms wrapped around me tightly, and I wanted to laugh at myself.

The whole year, I didn't cry.

All through detentions with that disgusting Alecto Carrow, I didn't cry.

The entire battle, I didn't cry.

But now, standing here in front of a boy, I was crying.

How amazingly weak.

Although, I have to admit that it got me something I've been wanting for so long. I wanted him to hold me again, make me feel loved…even if it might just be a lie. And admittedly he's not a boy. Everything he's been through the past few months most definitely qualifies him as a _man_.

For that matter, everything he's been through since his first year qualifies him as a man.

His lips pressed against my temple, and I couldn't help but let out a sob. He was safe, and that was what mattered. It was trivial and immature for me to be more interested by the question of whether or not he was still interested in me, right?

"Oh, Ginny," he whispered against my ear as his arms tightened around me, "I've missed you."

Was I imagining it, or was his voice a bit husky?

I pulled away just enough to see his face. There were tears in his eyes too.

His calloused thumbs wiped a few tears from my cheeks. Then I saw his eyes flicker to my lips for the tiniest part of a second.

He stiffened a bit. I could tell that it was because he was suddenly unsure, but that look was all I needed to know that he wanted me too.

Ecstacy.

That's what that did to me. Pure ecstacy.

He cleared his throat and looked away, blushing slightly. It would be an understatement to say that I was disappointed when he didn't kiss me.

"We should get back to the castle, your mum will be worried."

I nodded, ignoring the piercing reason for _why_ Mum would be so worried. I buried it deep, to be looked at later. Then I forced a cheerful voice, "They'll want their hero back, after all."

That got his attention.

His face swung back toward me, and I immediately regretted that look in his eyes. My hand was on his cheek, trying to undo my damage.

"You're _my_ hero too, Harry…you always were."

He drew in a shaky breath. I felt it in my own chest because he was still holding me so tightly. I stared into his eyes, even though I knew he wanted me to look away. I couldn't help it, after all this time. I just needed to soak up his presence for a while, just to convince myself that he was really there.

"Ginny," he started, looking down and letting go of all of me except for my hands. Why does he sound like he's preparing to disappoint me? But then he looked back up into my eyes, and when he said it again it sounded more like a sigh, "Ginny."

He stared into my eyes for a moment, long enough to make me forget that I was waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"Canyouforgivemeforleavingyou?" He blurted.

He wanted my _forgiveness_?

Well…that would imply that he…

"Harry Potter!" I said, louder than I intended because I was suddenly rather cross with him for getting his priorities all wrong. "You run off to defeat the darkest wizard of all time and when you come home you ask for _my_ forgiveness? Forgiveness for what? Ridding the country of the most evil it's seen in centuries? _Really_, Harry?"

But the next moment he looked as though I had clubbed him over the head, and I felt bad immediately.

"I just meant…I really care about you, Ginny, and I worry…"

"Oh, Harry," I said with a small, humorless laugh. "Not as much as I worried about you."

I suddenly found that I was stroking his cheek and smiling. How inappropriate. I really shouldn't be smiling after all that's happened. But he cared about _me_. He was worrying about _me_.

"Really?" He asked, disbelieving, "I mean…wouldn't you rather have someone… easier to live with?"

It seemed like a moment when I would need more than words to convince him, so I threw his glasses into the grass and pulled his face toward me, kissing him with all the emotion I had. His lips were just as I remembered. I molded myself to him without having to think. I barely even bothered to breathe as I started memorizing him again, reabsorbing all the details that I can't believe I forgot.

My hands were in his hair. I don't remember putting them there. But it's soft and silky…and a little long…oh well, it's nice to run my hands though…

I don't know how long we stayed that way. I would have liked to kiss him forever, and I could tell that he felt the same.

When I let him go we were both panting heavily. He looked like he had been clubbed over the head again.

I had to laugh at that look on his face before I answered his question. "No, I think I like you best."

hhhhhhhhhhhh

The afternoon was really starting to wear on me by the time Ginny and I finally got back up to the castle. The adrenaline had disappeared, and if I didn't find my bed soon I was likely to fall asleep on the cold stone floor.

Ginny sensed my exhaustion and didn't try to guide me toward the Great Hall. "Come on," she murmured into my ear, "Let's get you up to Gryffindor Tower."

Or what's left of it.

We walked together through the halls of Hogwarts, able to really see the damage for the first time. I hadn't really registered the magnitude of it this morning. If I had, I might have known to just stay in my bed, and not venture out of Gryffindor Tower before I had some rest.

"Ginny?" I asked quietly.

She turned to me to let me know she was listening.

"Thank you, for keeping yourself safe, I mean," I mumbled, stumbling over the words. As I said them, the memory of all the others who hadn't kept themselves safe, of Fred and Lupin and Tonks, especially, came rushing back to me. It put too much fervor into my words, and the burn in her eyes did nothing to help calm me down. "I would never have been able to do it if I didn't know you were okay…I might have given up…"

She hugged me fiercely then.

"Harry, you would never have given up." She laughed without humor, "You're _Harry Potter_, you never _could_ have given up."

I stared into her eyes for a moment as they blazed. I've never seen brown burn before, but then, Ginny's never been anything that I've ever seen before.

I wondered how many times I had missed that blazing look while I was…away. No doubt she had that look all the time since she was such an active part of the renegade DA.

I felt a frown cross my face. That reminds me that I'll need to have a talk with her later about how reckless she's been since I've been away, even if she has managed to keep herself in one piece.

"Come on," she said quietly, "Let's get you into bed."

I blushed, thinking of what she said. She just rolled her eyes at me. "Oh _relax_, Harry."

When we finally got to the portrait of the Fat Lady, I was ready to collapse. And apparently I looked it.

"Tut tut," the Fat Lady trilled at me, "I told you not to leave until you'd had a good rest, but off you went, and now look at you! Miss Weasley, I trust you will not let him out of his bed until he's slept a decent amount?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Ginny smiled.

"Er," I said, trying to think, "I don't actually know what the password is."

Ginny laughed, for real this time. "I don't either. Can't you just let us in?"

"Sorry, dears," the Fat Lady said, "I can't just let you in, I'm bewitched to need a password."

Ginny looked at her in disbelief.

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" the Fat Lady scolded, "Just say anything and I'll pretend it's the password!"

"Harry Potter," Ginny said decisively, "That's the new password."

"Alright, dears, go on, then," the Fat Lady said, swinging forward to let us in. I heard her muttering to herself as we climbed inside, "Honestly, I'd do better with the Ravenclaws, can't figure out that I'm bewitched to need a password…"

"Hey, Ginny?" I hesitated to ask as she walked me up to my bed.

"Hmm?" She answered.

"You must be tired too…"

"Yeah, I'm exhausted."

"Well, I mean," Damn it! Do I always have to blush? "You could sleep next to me, if you wanted to…"

She blushed too, but she smiled. "Maybe I'll just take Ron's bed, since I'm already up here."

I nodded through the disappointment. "Yeah, good thinking."

hhhhhhhhhhh

I woke to a pillow beating my head.

"Ouch! Ron! Geroffme!" I tried to mumble between blows.

"Sorry, mate," he said, giving me the offending pillow, "Just making sure you hadn't died in your sleep. All that exertion, you know, bound to tucker a bloke out."

"Really? And I'm sure it had nothing to do with wanting to know why your sister was sleeping on your bed."

"If I wanted to know why she was sleeping on my bed, I would have woken her up."

"You would not have. In her state you know she would have cursed you in her sleep before actually waking up. You're lucky I didn't do the same."

I mean, really, there are times when you shouldn't wake a bloke by beating him upside the head. The day after he defeats the darkest wizard of all time is one of them. Honestly, it's for his own safety more than anything else.

And sometimes a bloke just needs his sleep, too.

"You're right, and I don't fancy the sectumsempra she was firing at the Death Eaters, thanks. I blame you for teaching her that."

"You're welcome," I groaned sarcastically before rolling over and stuffing my face into my pillow.

He was silent for a moment. I thought he realized to just let me sleep.

I was wrong, of course. Tact was never one of Ron's strengths, I suppose.

"So why is Ginny sleeping on my bed?"

"She turned down the offer to sleep in mine."

He hit me with another pillow. Quite a bit harder this time, too.

"Well, I'm dead tired. I came up here, wanting to crawl into my bed—"

"Then go get in your bed! But let a bloke sleep, will you?"

He was silent for another moment. Then I heard him cross the room and whack someone else with the pillow.

"Ginny, go sleep with your future husband. I want my bed."

_Really_? Er…okay.

I heard her grumble and get out of bed so I moved over to make room for her. But she didn't hop in right away like I'd hoped. She stopped hesitantly and pulled back the hangings.

"Um...Harry, do you mind?"

"Er, no…not at all," I said, gesturing to the space I made. Damn blush.

She crawled in and I wondered if she would let me hold her. I mean, she's the one who didn't want to get into my bed in the first place.

It's amazing though, really. I can defeat Voldemort, but no way do I have enough courage to risk wrapping my arms around Ginny right now. Instead I fell asleep desperately longing to take her in my arms without fear of getting bat-bogey-hexed by her.

Or getting my bits chopped off by Ron, for that matter.

But the Harry in my dreams was much more courageous than I. He took Ginny into his arms and was rewarded with her sweet embrace.

Funny, I didn't think that things like this counted when they called Gryffindor the house of the brave.

hhhhhhhhhhhh

Hermione told me later that I had slept through that day and the next.

No one woke me. I suppose they thought I'd earned the right to be comatose for a bit.

But when I wandered down to the Great Hall the next morning, I found it buzzing with plans for the rebuilding of Hogwarts. McGonagall had her wand pointed at the wall behind the teacher's table, highlighting a blueprint of the work to be done on the cold stones.

Oddly, the Great Hall had barely been damaged by the battle, and it needed only a few repairs here and there, replacements of flagstones and the like.

The entire Astronomy Tower had been almost completely demolished and needed to be rebuilt, which I thought was a fitting memorial to Dumbledore. And many of the turrets needed to be fixed, as they had either suffered various contusions on their surfaces or been entirely blasted apart. Parts of walls all around the castle needed to be fixed.

It might be a bit silly, but I feel a sort of loss about this need to rebuild Hogwarts. I mean, besides the fact that this was always home, always will be home, there was so much history in those ancient stones. Mum and Dad, Sirius and Remus used to walk on these very stones. My grandparents stepped foot on them, and my great-grandparents, back for generations. My family used to sit at these very house tables, eating their breakfasts and maybe even their Christmas feasts like I always did.

I suppose it just pains me to lose that idea, which I've grown quite attached to, that when I'm here I can reach out and touch them…if I can imagine hard enough.

So I don't _want_ to replace a single cracked stone. I want it all to stay exactly as it is.

I took a deep breath and tried to listen to Professor McGonagall, but she just couldn't keep my attention. With this odd wave of nostalgia washing over me, I know exactly where I want to be right now.

I slipped back out of the Great Hall and surreptitiously pulled on my cloak.

More nostalgia.

This cloak was worn by Dad.

And Granddad.

And Great-granddad.

I wonder if they ever washed it?

I felt ridiculous doing it—if anyone could have actually seen me I never would have dared—but I sniffed the fabric.

I never noticed before, but it does smell a bit of stale firewhiskey, if I concentrate hard enough. I wonder who that was from.

But either way, I wasn't planning on sniffing a cloak all day long, although I found that I had a new reverence for it as I rushed down the path to the gate. It had been blasted apart by all the people who had swarmed in to stand with us, and so it now was unhinged and creaking in the slight spring breeze.

It was easy to slip out of the gate and disapparate with the breeze.

hhhhhhhhh

It was odd, I suppose.

The last time I was standing here, there weren't so many muggles out and about so I didn't have to watch how they all managed to just miss the memorial.

I wonder whose idea it was anyway. If it was the minister's or…or Dumbledore's.

Because it would mean so much more if it was Dumbledore's.

No matter what that awful woman wrote about him, he's still Dumbledore. He made mistakes, yeah, but he spent the next hundred years trying to make up for them, didn't he?

A little girl flounced past it, and her dress barely brushed the base of the statue, bending with the hard stone almost unnoticeably in the odd wind that enveloped it. You stepped into that circle and silence enveloped you.

I longed for that silence.

For that moment alone with Mum and Dad.

So I made my way carefully to the statue, trying not to touch any muggles as I went by in my cloak. For a moment I wanted to go back to Hogwarts, and find the stone, and call them back to tell them in person. But then I slipped into the silent circle that seemed so welcoming and looked up into Mum and Dad's faces. Those faces were beautiful and perfect, just exactly the same as the pictures Hagrid gave me, so many years ago. I took their hands, touched each of them and drew in a deep breath.

"You did it," I whispered to them, "You really did it."

hhhhhhhhhhh

"Where could he have gone!" I screamed at Ron, messing up the bedsheets as though Harry might suddenly turn up underneath them. "You were supposed to be here with him whenever he woke up!"

"Well, I meant to, but it got a bit boring and Hermione was telling me to come down to breakfast—"

"Hermione was telling you to come down to breakfast?" I asked, but he was quickly backing away. He recognized the tone of false calm in my voice. "You were _bored_?"

"Well, I, I mean, really, Ginny, I'm sure it's fine, you're over-reacting—"

"Like hell am I over-reacting Ronald Weasley! I told you that I'd stay up here with him! But you insisted that _you_ wanted to be here when he woke up! And instead you decided to go down to breakfast because he was getting a bit boring?"

"I, well, I –"

"How could you!"

"Ginny!" Came Hermione's voice from the foot of the stairs, "What are you screaming about?"

"What am I screaming about?" I called back to her, running down the stairs, "What am I screaming about, Hermione? I'm screaming about the fact that you left my boyfriend by calling your own down to breakfast, that's what I'm screaming, about Hermione!"

"Well, we all need to have breakfast—"she tried to reason with me.

"I offered to stay with him myself!" I screeched, effectively drowning out the rest of her argument, "And this one," I jerked my thumb back to Ron, who shriveled at the attention, "told me to go because he wanted to be there when Harry woke up! No doubt what he actually wanted was to be a pain in the arse!"

"Okay," Hermione said, her hands up in a way that pleaded with me to calm down. "Let's think about this. If Harry's not here, he must be somewhere nearby, maybe he just wanted a bath—"

"We checked them all already!"

"Okay, okay," she said, backing away herself now that she could see the fire wasn't leaving my eyes. "I'm sure we'll find him on the grounds somewhere, Ginny, but you won't do him any good by screaming this way."

"Maybe I will!" I screamed, inventing wildly now. How dare Ron? How _dare_ he? "Maybe if I scream loud enough he'll hear and tell us where he is! Did the library give you _that_ possibility?"

"Erm, no, it didn't. But common sense tells me we might find him the kitchens, where he can get food without dealing with everyone in the Great Hall," she said, quietly and calmly. Funny, the sudden change in volume is actually what made me listen.

"Oh," I said, fizzling out myself once I realized the logic of her solution. Well, it's not my fault if I got the red-head temper but none of my brothers did.

"Yeah," she pursed her lips, and I couldn't tell if she was hiding a smile or a grimace, before turning and leading us both out of the portrait hole.

hhhhhhhh

I hope you liked it!


	2. Search Party

Hello everyone!

So, I'm really glad that people gave me such positive responses to the first chapter. And I'm also really excited about the fact that a lot of my reviewers from Unforgettable and Mere Mortals are reading this as well—it makes me feel like you guys really like my writing, which of course is amazing encouragement! So thank you so much!

A big thank you goes out to all my reviewers, _PottedLilies, SiriusObession, missivypotter, Snape1918, DukeBrymin, Ang922, _and _Shroomy-eyes_. Thanks so much, guys!

Also, thank you to everyone who added me to their favorites/alerts lists. You're amazing!

Alright, here it is. I hope you enjoy :D

hhhhhhhhhhh

"He's not here either!" I yelled, trying to contain myself and failing miserably.

"Ginny!" Hermione reprimanded.

"What?" I yelled, accidentally smacking the edge of a table a little too hard in my frustration. Honestly, these two are supposed to be his _best mates_, why aren't they worried about where he is?

"Oh," I murmured, a blush slowly blossoming on my cheeks as I realized that Hermione was trying to point out the frenzy I had made with the house elves. The poor things were running all about the kitchen, worried that they had lost Harry Potter, most precious and beloved Boy-Who-Lived. "Sorry!" I yelled again, this time with a slightly contrite note to my voice, "Sorry, we just thought he might be here…erm, you haven't lost him, so don't worry…"

I trailed off when I realized that I wasn't making any sense.

Well, I suppose I was, but the point was that I hadn't found Harry yet, and we were all wasting precious time. Merlin knows that there are still Death Eaters up and down the country, and some that we think fled to France—I've even heard that they might go so far as tracking Dolohov after he fled to his native Russia—and Harry is out there, alone and unprotected. I don't care how much everyone worships him, the three people standing here know that he's human and always needs help.

Or, at least, _I_ do.

For some reason, Ron and Hermione haven't felt the need to worry about it just yet.

Although, I might be expected to take the absence of longing stares as worry. Apparently there's nothing they can do about the constant blushing. Bloody love-sick idiots.

Well, I suppose Hermione can't actually be called an idi—

HARRY! Back to Harry! He's still missing!

"Where could he have gone, then?" Ron asked, scratching his neck and, _finally_, looking appropriately concerned.

"I don't know," Hermione whispered, looking into his eyes. Oh Merlin, they're sharing _a look_. Nothing is ever going to get done now.

hhhhhhhhhh

The grass made a soft plopping noise as I sat down in it. I looked around for company, but thankfully there didn't seem to be any muggles here. No one normal would want to visit a graveyard on such a lovely day.

And it is a lovely day, for once. No storms or threats looming on the horizon, just the prospect of some beautiful weather. If life had been normal, I could have been at Hogwarts now, taking a final dip in the lake before the end of seventh year. I might have even seen Ginny in a bathing suit…if I was normal.

"Did you ever get to do that?" I asked their gravestone, idly playing with the grass. "I expect that I'll get to visit more often now," I said to them, wondering if they could hear. If they were really anywhere at all. "Now that Voldemort's been taken care of, I mean…Although I reckon I should check to make sure Bathilda didn't get turned into an inferius by anyone…"

I was rambling.

About very unpleasant things, too.

That wasn't what I wanted. It's not what I came here for. I came to celebrate with them, to share in this first truly happy moment. I was allowed to experience things now, truly experience them without the constant nagging pain that someone was trying to kill me, and was more than willing to go through the entire world—muggle and magical—in the process.

Well, that's kind of difficult, isn't it. It wouldn't be for a normal bloke, but lucky me. "Er...this is harder than I thought it would be," I told them, looking at the grass and frowning. Don't I have anything happy to tell them about? I mean, _nothing_, really? There had to have been something.

Oh.

Ginny.

And then thoughts of Ginny led to thoughts of the rest of the redheads, the rest of my family really, and I decided to start from the beginning.

"Well, when I was trying to get on the train first year, I didn't know how and then Mrs. Weasley—you would have liked her, Mum, she always tries to get me to eat third helpings of everything—well, she helped me onto the platform. And then I met Ron on the train. He told me all about quidditch, Dad, I never heard of it before him—well, that's wrong, I suppose Hagrid mentioned it too…"

hhhhhhhhhh

Before long, we had an organized search party on the grounds.

"Alright, everyone," Kingsley said in his deep baritone. I wish I had a voice like that. It always has the instant effect of silencing everyone and making them listen to whatever it is that you'd like to say. "The majority will stay here, on the grounds, as I find it difficult to believe that Harry Potter has been kidnapped from his bed."

"Unless the acromantulas got to him," Ron muttered quietly next to me. Hermoine squeezed his hand.

"You will search the Hogwarts castle and grounds. Two groups in the castle, one to begin at the top and work down, the other to begin in the dungeons and work up…"

Soon we were all assigned to groups and had begun searching. I was supposed to stay with the group that would search the grounds, but I grabbed Kingsley at the last moment and found myself in Godric's Hollow.

That was a gamble. I hadn't been sure if he was going to Godric's Hollow or Privet Drive. Thank Merlin I got to the right place.

Because Harry's here. I just know he is.

hhhhhhhhhhh

"So anyways, that's the story of my life," I told them, still gingerly touching my hair where the wind had mussed it.

Well, I say the wind because saying that Dad did it would make me sound slightly crazy. But honestly, Dad did it. I mean, really, I'm completely covered in the cloak, and somehow, a gust of wind that didn't move any leaves got under my hood and mussed my hair the way I saw Dad muss his in the pensieve. And it was right as I was telling them all about Ginny.

Honestly, no one will believe me, but after all the magic I've witnessed in the last seven years, it's not hard to believe that spirits could muss my hair—

What was that?

I pulled the cloak tighter around myself and turned toward the voices, but they were too light to make out. Almost as though they had been carried a long way by the wind.

"Percivus," I muttered quietly, pointing my wand at my own head. All my senses were instantly heightened. I was hyperaware of the metallic taste in my mouth and the fluidity of the silk cloak. I could smell the grass of the cemetery, which I can now guess may have been tended only a few days ago. But most importantly, I could see and hear figures in the distance, who appeared to be searching for something.

"—for an hour. I don't think we'll find him here—"

"—the Weasley girl thinks he's more likely to be here…"

What? They have Ginny?

Alright, maybe they're not Death Eaters, let's not jump to conclusions. I definitely can't see their faces or hear their voices properly at this distance, after all.

I moved closer, taking care to walk behind tombstones as often as possible so that they didn't see the grass bending surreptitiously as I walked. Finally, I was close enough to recognize Kingsley's face and the characteristically deep baritone of his voice.

What are they doing here?

"—might have already found him at Hogwarts, we'd have no way of knowing."

"No," Kingsley answered the man, "Let's keep looking. I gave orders that the first group to find him was to send appointed apparaters to the other search parties to inform them of his location…"

Who are they looking for?

And why would they be concerned with where Ginny thought he wa—"ARGH!" I yelled, falling face first into a pile of dirt. And it smells freshly manuered, thanks to that perception spell.

Then suddenly my cloak was being pulled away.

"HARRY! Oh, I _knew_ I would find you here as soon as they mentioned…" Ginny trailed away, looking at my face. I was sure that I looked confused.

Wait…had they been looking for _me_? Merlin, how long must I have been gone?

She pulled me back up to my feet and hugged me tightly.

Then she pulled back and slapped me. Hard.

"OW!" I yelled, rubbing my cheek. "What in Merlin's name was that for?"

"Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again, Harry Potter!" She yelled, beginning to pace and reminding me very much of Mrs. Weasley. I tried not to wince as I took the perception charm off. Her volume had already alerted Kingsley and his partner to our position.

"Bed empty! No note! Not a scrap of anything to let us know where you were! You could have run into some Death Eaters! You could have died! You could hav—"

I cut her off with a crushing hug. I figured it was the easiest way to shut her up for the moment, at least until she had calmed down a bit.

"You could have _died_," she mumbled into my cloak. It was at this point that I realized I was still partly wearing it, and I took it off to stuff it into my pocket before anyone got close enough to see that I had it. It's a family secret, after all.

"Sorry, Gin," I said quietly, mostly because I was afraid she might start screaming again if I spoke any louder.

She sighed and hugged me tightly again. "What even possessed you to leave Hogwarts?"

"Well, I, erm…I was talking to Mum and Dad, I suppose…"

"Talking to your Mum and Dad?" She asked, the confusion evident on her face.

"Yeah, erm, you know…I thought they should know it was over…that we won…"

"Oh, Harry," she murmured, running her fingers through my hair. My eyes closed of their own accord. "Of course they should know, but why didn't you come find me or Ron or Hermione? Why did you come by yourself?"

Why did I come by myself?

"I dunno," I shrugged. Then I made a split-second decision to trust her with my insanity. "But I think they like you."

A shocked giggle escaped her lips. "What makes you think that?"

"Just a feeling I got," I said, shrugging again as Kingsley and his partner finally reached us.

"Harry," Kingsley said. That's the one thing I'll never understand about Kingsley, he's always calm no matter what's happening. Although I suppose that makes a good leader. "We've found you. Portkins, apparate back to Hogwarts and inform them that we have found Harry, then immediately appoint someone to apparate to Privet Drive and inform that search party as well."

"Yes, Minister," the other man said, standing at attention. I held in a slight chuckle at his stance. Honestly, I'm surprised he held back from an actual salute.

Well, salute or not, in less than a moment he was gone with a pop.

"Now, Harry," Kingsley said again, focusing on me fully.

I gulped slightly. That constant calm also makes him slightly unnerving to everyone else.

"Yes, Kingsley?"

"Don't run off again. It's not good for my sanity."

Ginny squeezed my hand, agreeing with him. I suppressed another chuckle.

"Alright, then."

hhhhhhhh

After we rounded up the rest of the search party that was left in Godric's Hollow, we headed back to Hogwarts in a series of pops.

"Hey," I whispered to Ginny, "Do you need me to side-along you?"

She seemed to consider it for a moment before she nodded. But then she hugged me tightly and said, "Alright, I'm holding on."

Her warm arms around me made it easy to think of home, and we were at Hogwarts within moments. She let go but took my hand as we walked through the gate.

Everyone seemed to be congregated on the front lawn of the grounds, waiting for us to return. Everyone that I remembered seeing was standing there, so they must have called back all the search parties. I still can't honestly believe that they went to so much trouble to search for me. I mean, honestly, it's not like they need me anymore. Voldemort's gone, there no need to idolize a hero.

But they had looked for me, and it felt nice.

It felt really nice.

And Ginny squeezed my hand, and Mrs. Weasley was waving us toward her as she ran across the lawn, and Ron and Hermione looked relieved to see me, and maybe I'm not about to be thrown out with yesterday's trash. Maybe I have a family now, that wants me around, I mean.

"Harry Potter!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed as she ran. I urged a rather reluctant Ginny forward so that her mum wouldn't have to run the whole way. "Harry! Oh thank goodness you're alright!" And then she engulfed us both in a bone-crushing hug, and I suddenly realized why Ginny had been so reluctant to loose her air supply sooner rather than later. But it felt so good to be hugged that I couldn't bring myself to be bothered by it.

I just grinned across Mrs. Weasley's shoulder to Ginny, who rolled her eyes in return.

hhhhhhhhhh

"So, er, what are we going to do now?" Ron asked. The three of us had taken refuge in our old dorm so that we could get away from the crowd. I think rebuilding was secretly depressing to Ron and Hermione too, but they were trying not to show it.

"Oh, honestly, Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"What? I'm just asking!"

I laughed.

I laughed so long that they both turned to me with slightly worried expressions.

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron asked, thumping me on the back a bit.

I nodded, trying to pull myself together. Finally, I managed to take a deep breath and talk.

"It's just, you guys can argue all you want now," I told them, grinning at their utterly bewildered expressions, "Isn't it nice to be back to normal?"

Hermione giggled after a moment, and Ron gave a bit of a guffaw.

"Well, as normal as Hogwarts can get, anyway," Hermione said through a fresh wave of giggles. We all laughed for a long time before we all collapsed onto the floor, trying to breathe.

"Well," I finally said, "What _are_ we going to do now?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted.

"Hey!" Ron called out indignantly.

She giggled again, but it cut off abruptly as she sat up. She did not look happy.

"I want to go to Australia soon. To find Mum and Dad, I mean," she said, glancing between us.

"We'll go with you."

"No, Harry," Ron said, "You stay and I'll go."

"What?" I cried a little louder than I intended, "I want to go! Can't I help one of my best mates to find—"

"Harry, I want you to stay," Hermione cut in softly. "And you should stay too, Ron."

"What?" He yelled, even louder and more startled than I had been. "I'm going with you, and that's final!"

Hermione just rolled her eyes at him. "Ron, I don't think your mum can handle loosing any more of her children at the moment."

"Well alright then," I cut in, taking my chance, "I'll go and Ron can stay."

Both of them shook their heads at me.

"Harry, people need you here to be their leader and their icon," Hermione said, shaking her head, "You can't go."

"And besides that, mate," Ron told me, nodding his head sagely, "Ginny will follow me to Australia and murder me if I let you get lost again."

I chuckled at that. Hermione was not amused.

"Ron, I said you weren't coming—"

"Hermione, I'm coming."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Think of it this way," he told her, leaning over to take her hand. I averted my eyes before berating myself for being immature. "You can't stop me from coming. I could apparate there any time I wanted. And don't you at least want some company?"

"Well, I…"

I nodded covertly to Ron, both of us sensing that she would cave if he played his cards right.

"Listen," he murmured, leaning and closer and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "I want to be there for you. Does that make me horrid?"

I could see her face turn to mush. Well done, Ron. Although I didn't think he had it in him, honestly…

"Well, no…alright," she sighed, giving in. "You can come, Ron."

"And me too?" I asked, deciding to push the envelope.

But they both shook their heads at me again.

"You need to be here, mate," Ron said, reaching over to clap me on the back. "I heard Kingsley saying he wanted you in charge of rebuilding Hogwarts with McGonagall, it'll lift spirits, you know?"

"Yeah…"

"Harry," Hermione said softly, "Kingsley's right. You need to be here, rebuilding. It'll lift your spirits too, help you to come to terms with…"

She trailed off. She didn't need to finish the sentence.

Well, maybe if I help rebuild this place, I _can_ come to terms with it.

hhhhhhhhhh

I hope you liked it! Please review :)


	3. Frozen in Time

Hello everyone!

Chapter three here. Basically, they're trying to move on with life. I always figured that they would still have too much momentum and wouldn't be able to just stop right away, you know? They'd keep steamrolling and trying to get more done.

I'm sorry that the update took so long. And I apologize to all my reviewers as well. I didn't get a chance to do anything until a few days ago, and then I figured replying would be silly because you would have forgotten what you even wrote. But anyhow, thanks so much to my reviewers, _DukeBrymin, XAPY-TZINY-IIOZEINTON-NOAT, Snape1918, LemonLime165, Ang922, callmefall, UndercoverHufflepuff, hoeoverbros, SiriusObession, _and _PottedLilies_. Thank you!

I hope you enjoy :)

*****hhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I was lying in bed, hoping that the day would never start. Honestly, I don't know why it's so bloody hard to get up in the morning. I mean, I should have things to look forward to now.

Right?

I groaned and rolled over. Life after Voldemort was not all it was cracked up to be, honestly. Especially since I never considered that I would actually get around to it. I mean, what realistic teenager thinks, 'Hey, there's a powerful, blood-crazed lunatic who wants me dead, but I'm going to finish him and then live to tell the tale?'

No realistic teenager, that's who.

And besides that, I knew who I was when Voldemort was around. Sad, isn't it, that my life was defined by who I couldn't be. I couldn't be a normal boy, I had to be the 'boy who lived.' Well, I'm still alive, but I don't know what to do with it anymore. I honestly think that any chance I may have had for living was gone with that bloody prophecy made eighteen bloody years ago.

There was a knock at the door.

I didn't bother answering.

Ginny came in a moment later, carrying a tray. She set the tray on my bed-table as she perched on my bed.

"You can't stay in here forever, Harry."

I avoided her eyes.

"I brought you breakfast, I figured a Hogwarts breakfast would be the thing to tempt you out of bed."

I was quiet for a moment.

So was she.

"Thanks, Gin," I finally muttered, still avoiding her gaze.

"I don't want a thank you. I want you to get out of that bed."

I sighed and turned away. "Sorry, Gin."

"I don't want a sorry, either."

We were quiet again. I wasn't hungry, but I started thinking that I should eat my breakfast just so that I wouldn't be ungrateful. She did take the trouble to bring it for me, after all.

I sighed and rolled over, sitting up and reaching for the tray. Ginny snorted.

"You're not so weak and depressed that I need to feed it to you, then?"

I flushed, guilty and embarrassed. "Thanks for this, Gin, really."

"I already told you I don't want a thank you," she said, getting up and moving toward the door. "Get your lazy, ungrateful arse out of that bed and do something useful. And if you think I'm being a right git, just wait until McGonagall gets a hold of you. She's riled enough that you can't be bothered to move on with your life."

"She's riled that I can't be bothered to move on with my life?" I asked, slightly confused as to why she'd care.

"Well, she says it's because you didn't show up to help her as planned. _I'm_ riled that you can't be bothered to move on with your life." Suddenly her tone was much softer, sadder, really. "If you don't get a move on soon, you might not have a life to get on with, anyway."

She slipped out the door and didn't look back.

I pushed my breakfast away. Even the tiny bit of appetite I had was gone.

Vanishing the whole mess, I got out of bed and pulled on the new trousers that Hermione left at the foot of my bed yesterday.

So suppose I don't know what my purpose is anymore. That doesn't mean I can't find a new one, right? Or at least wander aimlessly without wasting away in bed, in the meantime.

Or maybe I can take one small purpose at a time. For instance, at this moment, I think my purpose is supposed to be rebuilding Hogwarts with McGonagall.

*****hhhhhhhhhhhh

"Mr. Potter."

Oh, I'm in trouble.

She turned to face me fully. "I expected you here yesterday."

"I'm sorry, professor, but—"

"I don't want to hear any buts, Potter," she told me sternly, shaking her head. Then her expression softened just the tiniest bit. "_Harry_."

"Yes, professor?" I asked, wondering why she called me by my first name. I've never had a professor call me by my first name before.

"You're Harry Potter," she stated simply.

As if I needed reminding of the fact. I already know that everyone expects that I'm a demigod. But she just continued.

"I have to remind myself, every now and again, that you are Harry. I taught your father, you know. I went to school with your grandfather. You look so like them," she said softly, with an almost sad wistfulness, "sometimes an old woman forgets."

"Professor—"

She held up a hand to stop me, indicating that she wasn't finished.

"I was heartbroken, Harry, the first time you walked into my classroom. I suppose I was hoping for a reincarnation of your father's lighthearted wit."

I sputtered for a moment before I fell silent again, not knowing what to say. She was quiet for a moment before she continued again.

"You are Harry Potter. You have endured far more than many wizards twice and thrice your age. Even when you walked into my classroom that first day, it was already plain that you were twice the man your father was." She cracked a smile, "And that is an immense compliment, Harry, for I knew your father very well."

"Why are you telling me this professor?" I asked, not in the mood to be emotionally affected.

"You have proved yourself time and again to be stronger than you ever knew. You have charted unknown waters before, you can do so again."

"Ginny got you, did she?" I asked ruefully.

McGonagall smiled. "She was quite upset. I told her that under no circumstances was she to bring the wrath of the Chosen One down upon me."

I snorted sarcastically.

"My point, Harry," she said, and I only just grasped why she was using my first name, "is that you were strong enough to lead your last life, and you are strong enough to lead your new one. Do you understand me?"

I nodded slowly, allowing it all to click into place. Surely, if I was enough to lead a crazy life, then I should be enough to lead a calm one. I hope.

"Very good," she said briskly as my nod turned more certain. She returned to her normal, business-like tone. "Now, as you did not deign to attend our meeting yesterday, we shall have to make double progress today…"

*****hhhhhhhhhh

"Ron, you're not really going away again, are you?" I asked him pointlessly. I already knew the answer, after all. He wasn't about to leave Hermione when she had to do something like this.

"Gin, you know I'm going to go."

"I know, but at least tell Mum first. You know, give her the traditional two week's notice before you two pack up and go."

Ron shook his head. "Charlie's already gone back to Romania, _permanently_, Gin. Mum can handle me going to Australia for a month or so. I mean, it'll be like I'm on holiday."

I snorted. "You _will_ be on holiday. You won't have to deal with anything that's happening here, anyway."

He gave me a wounded look.

And I realized he was right to feel that way.

"Sorry," I murmured, blushing at my mistake. "That was unfair."

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, carefully looking away. "Well, either way, I have to go with. I'm not going to leave her by herself. And you can handle Mum, she'll be alright."

"Yeah," I muttered, wondering if he'd completely ignored Mum's recent state or if he was just being foolishly optimistic.

"You know," he said, "just keep her busy, you know? She always reasoned best when she was working."

"Yeah," I laughed humorlessly, "maybe the house elves will let her help in the kitchen."

Ron cracked a smile. "Yeah, she seems pretty lost when she's not cooking, doesn't she."

"When are you off?"

"Next week," he said quickly, as though he was expecting the question. "You know, after she gets a chance to do some research."

I rolled my eyes slightly as she shared a laugh. Hermione wouldn't be Hermione if she didn't have her nose in a book.

We stood there for a moment, and I wondered vaguely what it would be like this time.

Ron leaving, I mean.

He was always my favorite brother. Only a year older than me, just as uncoordinated as I was when we were little, had the same freckles everywhere. And he always had time to play with me. I don't know if it was actually because he liked playing with me or if he was just wary of the twins' pranks, but he always had time to play with me. I even got him to a couple of tea parties back in the day.

So when he left for Hogwarts, I was scared because I was alone for the first time. My best friend was gone.

When he left Hogwarts, to go out and fight Voldemort, I was scared because I didn't know if he would come back.

But now that there's nothing to fear, I wonder how it will feel.

******hhhhhhhhhhh

"The entirety of the Astronomy Tower must be rebuilt. It is simply impossible to renovate it as is."

"I noticed that," I told her, looking up from the blueprints she was showing me. "I wanted to do something there as a tribute, you know? Since that was the only part of the castle that was truly destroyed, and since…Professor Dumbledore…um, died there…"

McGonagall nodded. "Yes, I think that's an excellent idea, Harry. Any ideas for the monument?"

"Monument?"

"Well, I say monument for lack of a better term, but I mean any general remembrance that we could put in the tower."

"Right, right," I said, my brain whirring into action. What kind of monument could we possibly come up with? "Er…"

"No need to have something concrete at the moment, Harry, simply come up with some ideas for our next meeting," she said, smoothing over my confusion. "We have more than enough material to work on for the next week. All of it will have to be rebuilt brick by brick, after all, it was torn apart with dark curses and creatures."

"Curses could do this damage?" I asked, shocked. I thought the castle was magically protected.

"In the amounts that we had that night, yes, they could. And that's aside from the fact that the giants and acromantulas broke the castle physically, weakening the wards that were set against wandfire."

I shook my head. "How could this happen to _Hogwarts_?"

McGonagall sighed and patted my shoulder. "Well, Harry, we cannot wonder why. We can only fix it."

*****hhhhhhhhhh

"Ginny, I really don't think—"

"Harry, just shut up."

"But Gin—"

"No, Harry. We are going down to the Great Hall. You will eat. Then, we will come back up to the common room. Understood?"

"Gi—"

"_Understood_?"

He grunted in acceptance.

"Good," I told him, taking his arm and flashing an encouraging smile. "Now let's go get some of that roast you're so fond of. It's been a while since you had roast, hasn't it?" I asked, purpose trying to bait him. Maybe reminders of the food he's missing will make him more willing.

"_Months_," he groaned, and his grip on my arm tightened. "Do they still make the thick gravy?"

I nodded with a big smile. "They make boatloads of it."

"Well, I suppose there's worse places to be than the Great Hall…"

"True," I teased, "You could be in the middle of the Ministry."

"Or, Merlin forbid, the Daily Prophet."

I giggled. "Rita doesn't write there anymore, you know."

"I know. I hate the rest of them just as much for allowing the Ministry to censor them though."

I sighed. "Well, the past is past. Personally, I'm hoping Hermione goes into law and closes all the loopholes in that category."

"That's actually a fantastic idea."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely, yeah," he said, squeezing my hand. "And she'll get around to house elves too."

I giggled. "I'm sure she would."

Suddenly we were right outside the Great Hall. I heard him take a deep breath.

"You'll be fine, Harry," I assured him.

He nodded. "Well, at least they all love me now. I've walked in to worse, I suppose."

I gave him an encouraging smile and opened the door, slipping in and pulling him behind me.

No one even noticed. Everyone was busy eating their dinner, and the idea that Harry Potter might suddenly deign to come to the Great Hall was far from their minds.

"See?" I whispered to him, "It's fine."

He nodded, the green tinge fading slowly from his face.

"Harry! Hey, HARRY!"

Damn.

I don't care if that was unladylike, I only thought it, after all.

Every head turned in the direction that Seamus Finnigan waved, and soon several people across the hall had stood to see.

Then Professor McGonagall broke the silence by clearing her throat very loudly and turning to Flitwick beside her, "I do believe that the charms classroom should be in order by the end of the month…"

Soon everyone went back to their dinner, and Harry and I had no choice but to go sit by Seamus, who I really could have done without at that moment.

"So, Harry," Seamus said, too loudly, as we sat opposite him, "How've ya been, mate?"

"Erm, alright, I guess. How've you been, Seamus?"

"Fantastic! Voldemort's gone, and now I've got me best mate back!" He said, thumping Dean Thomas on the back.

Dean grinned at me. I squirmed slightly. I knew that grin. It meant he was imagining a broom closet, and I didn't appreciate it.

Harry didn't seem to either, so he changed the subject.

"So why are you sitting at the Hufflepuff table?"

"Aw, no one sits by house table anymore, at least not now, but I think the kids will once school starts again. Isn't that what McGonagall said, Dean?"

"Yeah, reckon so," Dean nodded, still grinning manically at me. Bloody git. He ran off with Parvati just two days after Harry and I got together in fifth year.

"And there's a pretty little bird sittin' a little ways down," Seamus added, nodding his head down the table at a couple of blondes.

Harry cleared his throat, staring Dean down. "No one's sitting at the Slytherin table, though."

"Yeah, well," Dean said, suddenly diverting his attention to Harry, "no one wants to sit there, do they? I mean, there are even a couple of Slytherins around and _they_ won't sit there."

Harry snorted.

I gave him that. All they've ever done is cause him grief, after all.

"Well, boys, it's been nice seeing you," I said, taking advantage of the fact that Harry hadn't loaded his plate yet, "but Mum is waving us over, so we have to go."

Then I pulled him up and we headed over the what was formerly the Gryffindor table.

"Thanks," Harry, murmured quietly. I could tell he was still fuming about Dean.

I laughed quietly at the stupidity of it. Who would have thought that Harry Potter would be jealous of another bloke? "You're welcome."

"It's not funny."

"Yeah, it is."

He let out an angry breath. "No, it's not."

I groaned. "Harry, I finally got you out of your dorm, can we not argue over a bloody git like Dean Thomas?"

"Ginevra! That is not ladylike language."

"Sorry, Mum," I groaned. Of course she would have heard.

"Really, Ginny," she said disapprovingly. Then, as was her custom, she turned to Harry and instantly became infinitely more amiable. "Harry, dear! It's so nice to see you out and about, but you need to eat. You look absolutely peaky."

And, as anyone would guess, the rest of dinner passed with Mum trying to get Harry to eat third helpings of roast and Yorkshire pudding.

*****hhhhhhhhhhhh

"So McGonagall told you to come up with ideas for a monument?" Ron asked, scratching his neck as he flopped onto a couch.

"Yeah," I told them, "Any ideas?"

They all just looked at each other.

"Well, maybe you could put up a plaque—"

I shook my head. "It merits more than a plaque."

"Do you have the entire Astronomy Tower?" Hermione asked.

"Reckon so, why?"

"Well, maybe you could write the story in runes, you know?"

"Why would you do it in runes?" Ginny asked, "Just do it in English."

"But the runes will look nicer and more decorative," Hermione argued.

"But hardly anyone will be able to read it," Ginny said, "There's no point to that."

They went on for a few minutes, and Ron and I shared a few exasperated glances before I cut in. "Actually, I was thinking of commemorating all the people who died, you know, write a name on every brick."

"A name on every brick?" Ginny asked. Ron just looked confused.

Hermione was nodding already. "Oh, that is a good idea." Then she turned to Ginny and Ron to explain, "Lots of muggles do that. You can donate money to have a brick in honor of a family member."

They still looked confused.

"Why would you want a brick in honor of a family member?" Ginny asked.

"And why would you make them pay for it?" Ron asked, slightly angry at the idea.

"Well we won't have anyone pay, Ron," I said quickly, "But the idea is that the stone is immortal. You've immortalized the memory of the deceased."

Ron looked slightly mollified.

"Don't stop at just the people who died this time around," Ginny suddenly said.

"What?"

"Do the ones who died before, too," she clarified, "Your parents, Harry, and their generation. You should do _everyone_ who died fighting Voldemort."

I nodded, touched by the idea.

"I think that would be wonderful," Hermione said softly, nodding. "Maybe we could even put the dates of birth and death, you know, so that everyone knows that they died fighting him."

"Naw," Ron said, "That would be too depressing. But maybe the verses on their gravestones…what are those things called?'

"Epitaphs?" Hermione said ironically, "How are those not depressing?"

"They're not!" He defended, "They're meant to be uplifting and good memories!"

"Alright," I said, trying to stop a fight before it ended in snogging—there was more than one reason why I wasn't coming out of my room very often. "We can work out details later, but let's keep thinking about other ideas, first. It'll be nice to have options."

They all nodded in agreement, so Hermione conjured some parchment and a quill, and we set to work.

****hhhhhhhhhh

I hope you liked it! Please review :)

And I'm hoping for suggestions for a monument. I know I want to do one, but I'm having a creative block on what it should be. The only stipulation I have is that it's definitely going to be on or in the Astronomy Tower.


	4. Treading Slowly

Hello everyone!

So, it's been a while since I updated. Thanks for all sticking with me. Anyway, this is chapter four of my idea of the aftermath of the war. I hope you like it, and I want to tell you all that I'm still looking for ideas on the monument. I have one in my mind, but I'm willing to add cool touches to it. (Of course, any idea you have will be credited to you.)

Thanks to all my reviewers! Thank you to _DukeBrymin, Snape1918, , Ang922, missivypotter, UndercoverHufflepuff, SiriusObsession, PottedLilies, _and _LemonLime165_. Thank you so much!

And thank you to everyone who added me to their favorites/alerts lists!

Oh, and let me say that there was a scene between McGonagall and Harry in the last chapter (and one in this chapter as well) that might be easier to understand if you read my oneshot called _The Potter Inheritance_. It's from McGonagall's point of view, and I think it will probably clarify what it is that's going through her head when she talks to Harry.

I hope you like it!

*****hhhhhhhh

"I don't know, Gin," He started again, sweeping my hair behind my ear and then blushing slightly. Bloody idiot. We've snogged the living daylights out of each other but he still blushes when he touches my hair.

"I don't know either, but I know you can't let the two of them go off without having some way to keep in touch."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it," he admitted, laying back onto his bed. I snuggled up beside him.

Huh. He isn't blushing _now_.

Bloody confusing boyfriends. You never know what they're thinking.

"What have you come up with, then?"

"Well, I reckon I could always apparate over there, although I wouldn't know where they were—"

"True, so that doesn't quite work."

"Then there's always the floo network, but still, I wouldn't know where they were exactly, in order to get to them."

I nodded. "Also true. Have you thought of using a telephone?"

He looked at me, surprised. "You know what a telephone is?"

I rolled my eyes. "Harry, I'm officially a seventh year. I know what a telephone is. In fact, I can guarantee you that Ron only calls it a felly-tone to annoy Hermione."

Harry smirked. "It works."

I slapped his shoulder playfully.

"What?" He said, feigning innocence.

I just rolled my eyes again and changed the subject back to important things. "Use a _felly-tone_," I told him sarcastically. "Do you know, I actually saw a couple of muggles walking around with them the other day?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, I thought they were telephones, but I suppose I could be wrong. They may have been talking into plastic simply because they were off their rockers."

He grinned widely. "Most muggles are, you know."

I rolled my eyes again.

"If you keep doing that, your eyes will actually fall out."

I rolled them again just to bait him, but he only grinned wider and shook his head.

"Oh no," he said quietly, gently pressing my eyes closed, "I quite like your eyes where they are, I'm afraid I can't let you roll them anymore."

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.

Well, it's not my fault. When Harry is uncharacteristically suave, I become uncharacteristically girly.

His lips brushed against my lids and I caught my breath, just waiting. I felt his mouth trail across my cheeks, leaving light kisses as he went, before he finally, _finally_, made it to my mouth. I kissed him back for all I was worth, and was warm all over when he responded the same way.

He pulled away rather suddenly, looking guiltily at the door and sitting up in the bed. "Sorry," he murmured, "I just realized that anyone could walk in."

I rolled my eyes again. "Would it really bother you to be caught?"

"You're not for display, Gin," he told me seriously, cupping my cheek. "And anyways, what if it was your brothers?"

"I'm pretty sure you have enough experience to handle my brothers."

"Maybe, but I wouldn't mess with anyone who was trying to protect you."

I snuggled back into him because I wasn't sure what to say to that. And really, it took me a moment to understand what it was that he said. Basically, he loved anyone who loved me, which was easy enough to accept. This was Harry, after all.

But I wasn't for display.

That was something new. I was always for display. Well, at least with Michael and Dean I had always been on display.

I suppose I don't really know what to think of that one.

*****hhhhhhhhh

"Good morning, Professor," I said, knocking on her open door. I readjusted my scrolls of parchment just as she looked up.

"Harry, come in," she answered with a slight frown on her face.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, no," she assured me as I took a seat, "Nothing of consequence."

"Okay." I answered slowly, almost in question. She shook her head.

"Harry, although I am quite accustomed to you calling me Professor, and it does pain me slightly to think that another generation of my students has grown, I must insist that you call me Minerva."

"Professor?"

"_Minerva_, Harry," she emphasized. "I simply cannot justify your calling me by titles any longer."

I was gobsmacked. I wasn't expecting that, and, I mean, she's always been Professor McGonagall.

"Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly avoiding the use of her name altogether.

"I must insist."

"Well, um, I have a few drawings, Pr-Minerva," I stuttered slightly, shoving my arms out to show her my scrolls. Hermione and I had spent hours listing ideas and sketching the more promising ones. I only hoped McGonagall would like some of them.

"What are these, Harry?"

"Ideas, Pr-Minerva," I told her, "For, er, the monument?"

"Ah, yes, well, let's a take a look then."

*****hhhhhhhhhhh

Three hours later, we had decided on a monument that combined a few of the elements that we came up with yesterday. I was sent to survey the work being done on the grounds to see what supplies we had, and Ron decided to come with me.

"So, bricks, then?" He asked, scratching his neck as we made our way out of the great front doors.

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. Ginny's getting to me. "Yeah, Ron, but we'll probably have to order those from the goblins since the ones McGonagall already ordered will all be used up in other places. We need to check for things like how much paint we have, and we'll have to find someone who is particularly handy with their wand—"

"Hermione would be able to do a good job on that," he cut in.

I shook my head. "She'd be fantastic but she'll be in Australia."

"Can't you wait until we get back?"

"The Astronomy Tower needs to be rebuilt in time for September first," I reminded him.

"Right, right," he mumbled, clearly lost in thought. "Well, I'm sure she won't want to postpone the trip. Flitwick could always do it, I mean, I imagine that it's a charm, isn't it?"

"Reckon it is. But I doubt he would have the time—"

"I'm sure he would make the time. It's the memorial we're talking about."

I nodded. "You're probably right. And he would know how to do it right, for sure."

We had gone around the largest cornerstone by this point, opening to the expanse of the castle and grounds that was visible from Gryffindor Tower. A floating scroll the size of a Great Hall table was shimmering in the sun, displaying both a blueprint and a finished photograph of Hogwarts Castle. And there were people everywhere working on setting bricks. I dodged a brick as it levitated into the air right in front of me before landing on the wall with a rather loud splatt.

"Oh, sorry, Harry," Luna said in her dreamy voice. "I didn't see you there."

"Well, that might be because of the glasses you've got o—" I elbowed Ron in the ribs before he could finish his sentence. But I couldn't help asking myself.

"Erm, Luna, why _do_ you have those glasses on? I thought they were for wrackspurts?"

"Oh, I'm making sure that none of them get into the walls. It's a little known fact about wrackspurts, that they can eat mortar."

"Hmm," Ron said in interest—or else doing a very good job of feigning interest—"And how did you find that out?"

"All the ancient castles have wrackspurts in them," she informed him good naturedly as she turned back to her pile of bricks. "That's why they're crumbling. Of course, that would mean that Hogwarts won't crumble for at least five hundred years, but it's still important. Sadly, Professor McGonagall wouldn't listen when I told her that everyone should check for wrackspurts as they were laying their bricks."

"Well, I'm sure she has ways of protecting Hogwarts from wrackspurts," Ron reassured her, "After all, it stood for a thousand years before we came along."

"Hmm…" she murmured, dropping another brick into place with a splat, "I suppose you're right, Ron."

"Right," I said, amused but in a slight hurry, "well, we have to take a quick inventory, but we'll see you later Luna."

"Bye, then," she called dreamily, already turning her concentration fully to her work.

"Amusing, isn't she?" Ron muttered to me quietly as we walked away, "Completely bonkers, but amusing."  
I smiled and shook my head just as I spotted a bunch of paints. "Yeah, she's amusing alright. Let's go look at those paints."

We hurried over to the colors, checking to see what they were and how much was left. There were only a few good cans, and I could see that their original owners still needed them. Hagrid was using copious amounts of red to paint his chicken coop—painting lots of the surrounding grass in the process—and he had Seamus, Dean, and Parvati painting the fence in the traditional white.

So no luck there. We'll have to order our own paints.

"Hey Harry," Ron said, nudging me in the side.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't we have Luna do it?"

"Do what? Luna's busy right now."

"Well, yeah, but I mean, later. Why don't we have Luna paint?"

I stopped. "That's a brilliant idea."

"So…should we go ask her what colors she wants, then?"

"Yeah," I said, clapping his shoulder as I turned back around. "Fantastic idea, Ron. She'll be perfect for this."

*****hhhhhhhhhh

"Ginny! We've done nothing of the sort!"

I smirked. "Obviously. You couldn't possibly be trying to cover anything up."

She sputtered, turning red in the face as her fists clenched. "Well, I, I mean, that is to say, I'M OLDER THAN YOU, DAMMIT!"

I couldn't help my laugh. "You're not older than Harry."

She started sputtering again.

"So, how are you and Ron doing?"

She flushed a bit deeper before she said, "We're doing just fine. I mean, that is to say, we, er, he has officially asked me to be his girlfriend…"

"Really?" I squealed. I couldn't help it. I've been waiting for them to get together almost as long as I waited to get together with Harry. "When?"

She was still flushing. "Last week, the day after, I mean, it was all around awkward, of course, but it was a bit sweet, I suppose—"

"Hermione! Stop bumbling and tell me what happened."

She took a deep breath. "Well, we were waiting for breakfast to show up in the Great Hall, and we were sitting together—"

"Where was I?" I interrupted. I didn't remember any of this.

"I haven't a clue."

"A bit preoccupied, were you?" I teased knowingly.

She flushed again. Merlin, I didn't think that people could blush and then blush again so quickly. "Well, yes," she admitted. I couldn't help smirking as her words came out progressively quicker and more jumbled. "But, as I was saying, we were waiting for breakfast and he sort of got this funny look on his face and then started talking about how I was a 'bloody good snog' as he called it, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend. Officially."

I giggled. "Wow. I don't know how you resist my brother's charm."

She looked down, giggling herself. "Well, I suppose his charm is that he is utterly uncharming, even when he tries to be."

I shook my head. "Only a woman truly in love would say that."

She pretended to be offended. "Oh, and I suppose Harry has all the charm of a prince?"  
I smiled, thinking back on that morning. "He has his moments."

"I'll take your word for it," she said hastily.

I rolled my eyes. I mean, Ron is _actually_ my brother, but I don't get squeamish about the fact that he's dating someone. "Well then how are the preparations for your trip coming along?"

"Everything is set," she told me, consulting an appointment book that she usually used for study scheduling. "I haven't the slightest clue where they are, but the Kingsley's assistant was assigned to help us out with the legal aspects of the trip. We've already contacted the Australian ministry and they have someone already working on the legal issues on their end." She took a deep breath and sighed. "At least I won't have to worry about things like passports and papers when I'm trying to get them back here."

I nodded along sympathetically. "I'm sure it will all work out, Hermione—"

"I'm just not sure that I shouldn't leave them there," she cut in, flustered again. "I think it would probably be a simpler life for them to just stay there…away from all the crazy things going on _here_, anyway."

"People have crazy lives. They learn to live with it. And I've met your Mum and Dad. They're proud of you and they would want to be back here, knowing what their daughter did and being proud of it."

When she looked at me again I noticed some unshed tears. "They won't be upset with all the trouble I've caused?"

I almost laughed, but wrapped her in a hug instead. "No, love, they won't be upset about anything."

*****hhhhhhhhhhhh

"Have you got everything packed?" I asked, eyeing the same small handbag that we camped from this past year.

"Yes," Hermione assured me, dropping one last bottle of dittany into the bag and then charming it to be feather light. "I can't imagine that we'd need all of this, really, but just to be sure that we're not wanting—"

"Hermione!" Ron's voice called from up the stairs, "I can't find my sneakers!"

"I've got hem packed already, Ron," she called back up the stairs before sinking slowly into the couch. She sighed before murmuring, "Oh, I'm going to miss these couches once we go."

"Um, I'm not completely certain, but I reckon they have couches in Australia."

"Yes, but these are _Hogwarts_ couches. All poufy and warm and by the roaring fire."

I smiled. "I think they have fires in Australia, too. Although I hear it is a bit warm there to begin with—"

"Oh, it will be winter there. The seasons are inverted south of the equator."

"Right," I said, grinning. It was nice to have the old Hermione back. You know, the one who knew absolutely everything and always knew what to do. I really missed that during the last year.

"Well, I suppose it might still be a tad warmer than our winters are," she admitted, "They do have that wearing hats campaign that the muggle government has been endorsing…"

I let her get lost in her world of little worries. She was allowed to worry about little things now.

"Hermione!" Ron called, bounding down the stairs. I resisted the urge to remind him that it was the crack of dawn and he might wake people. "Hermione, I'm ready to go!"

"Shhh!" She reprimanded as she pushed herself off of the couch. "You'll wake the whole castle screaming like that!"

I resisted the urge to remind _her_ that it was the crack of dawn and she might wake people.

"Anyways," she said, pulling her bag toward her and then taking Ron's hand, "It's time to go. We'll be arriving at the ministry in Sydney, and they've got the same time, so we should have the whole day ahead of us—"

"They've got the same time?" Ron asked, confused, "But I thought we would be getting there with some extra time? You know, to go back to sleep?"

Hermione looked irked. "You can go back to sleep right now, Ron, you don't have to co—"

"No, no!" He hurried to say, "I want to come, I just thought that we had different time zones, that's all."

"Right, well," she answered, looking slightly mollified, "We should head down to the grounds then, because we can't apparate inside the castle…"

The walk down to the grounds was peacefully quiet, and I enjoyed it much more than I normally would. I think I've finally gotten used to the idea that no one is going to jump out from behind a corner and try to murder me.

Kind of odd that I have to get used to that idea, now that I think about it.

When we finally made it past the gate, Hermione turned and we all stopped.

"Alright," she murmured quietly, casting her gaze about to avoid our eyes, "Should we go together, then?"

"Yeah," Ron said, firmly taking her hand. "On three?"

She nodded. "One…two…"

And then they were gone.

I looked at the spot where they last stood for a moment, smiling to myself. When they came back, Hermione would have her family again.

And that's what the whole fight was for. Bringing families back together.

I can only hope she doesn't burden them with tales of how we won this, though.

*****hhhhhhhhhhh

I hope you liked it! Please review!


	5. Switching Gears

Hello everyone!

Chapter five, here. Umm, I don't really know what to say in the author's note here, because I feel like this is a bit of a filler chapter. It sets up a couple of tasks and has a small amount of fluff, but mostly it's just a bridge chapter. They are sort of just changing from being relieved that they survived to actually fixing their world. I hope you like it anyway :) Oh, and one important note, I usually use little asteriks to denote chapter breaks, but for some reason Fanfiction is deleting them. So instead, we have 'hhhhh'

Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, _PottedLilies, SiriusObsession, DukeBrymin, Snape1918, _and _LemonLime165_. Thank you!

And also a big thanks to everyone who added me to their favorites/alerts lists!

I hope you like it!

hhhhhhhh

"We'll have to have the students stay over the summer," McGonagall was saying when I walked into her office. "We simply cannot catch them up during the normal school year."

"So we'll simply keep them here for a full year? I cannot imagine that the parents would agree, especially the first-year muggle-born parents," Sprout objected.

McGonagall just shook her head. "We will have to visit homes personally, and explain the situation in greater detail. And we will need to visit the homes of the second-year muggle-borns as well. I would imagine that those children are not keen on returning, and their parents will not be likely to send them without some intervention—"

"Professor? Erm, I mean, Minerva, can I just say," I cut in, and everyone's head whipped around to my place at the door.

"Harry," she called, waving me in. "I didn't notice your arrival. Please, have a seat."

She flicked her wand at a desk which instantly became a proper chair.

"Thanks, erm, Minerva," I said, taking the seat and looking around. Funny, a year ago I would have been nervous about so many faces trained on mine. I suppose I'm finally accustomed to the limelight. "I just wanted to point out that these muggle-born children might want to come back, if their friends have encouraged them to do so. I mean, we should go talk to them and their families, but it's also important that we talk to the other children, encourage them to write to their friends."

They all considered me for a moment. Finally, Professor Sprout spoke up.

"A very important point, Harry. We should absolutely send out a letter to all students, encouraging them to bond more with their muggleborn friends."

Everyone started nodding and murmuring in agreement.

"Well then, everyone," McGonagall said, calling the room back to order, "We will have to set to work on this issue. I trust that our combined efforts will allow us to map the friendships of the students, we will need to draft a letter to encourage correspondence between friends, and we must draft a speech with which to explain matters to the parents of the muggleborn students."

They kept talking about it for a few hours. I even stayed for all of the meticulous wording of the speech to parents of the poor muggleborn second years, who must be terrified after their only experience with the wizarding world.

But after all that fighting—and finally winning—I won't let Voldemort have the victory of keeping even one of those muggleborns away from Hogwarts. I will get them all back here, mark my words.

hhhhhh

"Ooh, that sounds lovely," Luna said, nodding and looking, as always, as though she had just finished daydreaming. I knew that was what Ginny was smiling about next to me.

"So, you'll do it, then?" I asked her, just to be sure.

She nodded. "Oh yes, that would be quite fun, I suppose. Should I come up with the painting myself?"

Erm, no. I don't particularly want any crumple-horned snorkacks or nargles in this mural. "Well, I actually have to run every detail through McGonagall first, but if you'd like to help me by coming up with a few different drawings, that would be great."

Damn politeness. I wish Ron were here.

She nodded again, looking slightly as though she was about to drift off into another daydream. Actually, maybe she was already thinking about the design and I just wasn't giving her enough credit. "I'll try to come up with something pretty," she assured me before turning away to ladle more potatoes onto her plate.

Ginny was still smiling next to me. She loves Luna.

I think it comes from Luna actually being unique, rather than the cardboard cut-outs we usually have to talk to.

Actually, I quite like Luna myself because of that.

"Heya! Harry!"

Oh Merlin, here comes another cut-out now.

"Hey, Seamus," I said, feigning as much enthusiasm as I could. I didn't think it was very much, but then, I didn't really have any patience for him.

And he was always wandering about with Dean, anyway, and if that bloke kept looking at Ginny like that I would have to go get the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's grave just so that I could curse him with it.

"Me and Dean were just chatting up that pretty bird from Ravenclaw, and she heard that Kingsley Shacklebolt is being asked to run for Minister! And the bloke turned down the invitation! Imagine that, won't you?"

I laughed. Of course Kingsley wouldn't want to be Minister.

"Well," Ginny answered for me, "I imagine he's had a taste of the job and doesn't want it for the next few years."

Seamus nodded at her. Dean, most fortunately for the state of his health, was staring over my shoulder somewhere. "I reckon you're right, little Weasley. Betcha he's had enough already. It's going to be a mess putting everything back together—what with Hogwarts only being the beginning and all."

"Yeah," I agreed. It's easier to think about conversation when you're not concerned with punching anyone, now that I think about it. "He wants Hogwarts back together first, says that it's the symbol of stability, you know."

"Well _I_ think so," Ginny cut in. "Everyone always says that there's no safer place than Hogwarts, and for it to be blasted apart—"

"It wasn't blasted apart, though," Seamus interrupted. "Got a few scratches and bruises, sure, but it's still standing. We just gotta patch her up here and there."

I nodded. "True. The reconstruction could be a lot worse. But it's bad enough to see it like this."

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, she's broken a lot of hearts. I swear I saw old McGonagall crying over a broken banister the other day…"

And then off he went, launching into an account of McGonagall's tears so extravagant that only Seamus could be telling it. I couldn't help grinning at it though, because that's the one thing that hasn't changed about him since first year.

Well, that and his Irish accent, I suppose.

hhhhhh

"Ginny!" I heard Mum call from somewhere up the girls' staircase, "Ginny!"

"Yes, Mum?" I called back, poking my head out the dormitory door and trying to decide whether she was up or down. Honestly, she's so loud sometimes that you really can't tell where it's coming from.

"Ginny, I need you up here for a moment!"

Up where? Well, I suppose I'll just start up the stairs and I'll sun into her eventually.

It took a few minutes, but I finally found her three floors up, in the dorms of the second-year girls. "What are you doing up here, Mum?"

She turned to my voice, and I was startled to see a few tears leaking down her cheeks. I hadn't heard any tremors when she was calling for me. "I was just thinking, dear, that these children have mothers who won't want to send them back."

I nodded as sympathetically as I could. She's been liable to burst into tears at anything recently, not that I really blame her.

"And Minerva is going to be talking to the children's parents, like they always do for muggleborns, but she'll be talking to the second-year muggleborns too, and their parents are the ones who won't want to send them." She paused to wipe a few tears away and then continued in her shaky voice. "But if a mother were to go to them, well, they might be more inclined to send the children back. Minerva always has been slightly cold about these things, you know…"

I just kept nodding, and went over to give her a hug. She started sobbing slightly.

"Well, Ginevra, I'm going to need you to go home, and try to put the house back together. You know it's been a shambles since February, when…when…when we had to leave…"

"Shhh," I murmured, hugging her and stroking her hair softly. "I'll take care of that Mum, it'll be fine."

She kept trying to talk, but her words were coming out in sobs and I wasn't sure what she was trying to say. I think I caught some nonsense about de-gnoming the garden, though. I wasn't about to bother with that, sorry.

"Mum," I said softly, trying to calm her down, "why don't you lie down? Have a nice rest—"

"I don't need to lie down!" She suddenly burst out, still sobbing. "All anyone wants me to do is lie down. It's driving me bonkers! I need to get up and _do_ something!"

"Okay," I said, putting my hands up in a gesture of good will and inching back slightly. "How about you go down to the kitchens and get a nice cup of tea? I'm sure the houseelves will let you help with dinner if you ask nicely…"

She cocked her head to the side for a moment, considering. Then she nodded. "Yes. Yes, that's a good idea, Ginny, thank you."

And then she gave me one last hug before going out the door.

You know, come to think of houseelves, I wonder if I can sneak a few home with me. Just to help clean, you know, and then bring them back.

I'm sure no one would mind.

hhhhhh

"What are you doing?" Harry whispered.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Don't _do_ that!"

"Sorry," he said, an entirely not-sorry expression on his face. He looks a bit amused, actually. "So what are you doing?"

"I'm wondering if Mum is still in the kitchens."

"Ah, is that why you're lurking about," he said, grinning. He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and tapped it with his wand. "You could have just asked me, you know."

I cocked a brow. "You still carry that thing around?"

"Force of habit," he shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about it. I let it be.

"Well, is she still in there?"

"Yep," he grinned. "Working alongside some elves named Ginevra, and Harold, and—"

I turned around and marched straight into the kitchens.

But I had never done that before, and I hadn't expected them all to rush at me like I was a giant sugarquill.

"Hello Miss!"

"How may we help you, Miss?"  
"What would you like, Miss, some lemonade, perhaps?"

"Oh, erm, lemonade actually sounds great, thank you," I said, startled. I heard Harry chuckling behind me.

"Never been to the kitchens?" He asked, sounding amused but genuinely surprised. "I would have thought you'd have found this place years ago."

"Nah, Fred and George told me about it, but wouldn't bring me along. Said it was one thing to get themselves into trouble, another to corrupt their entirely innocent little sister."

"Entirely innocent little sister?"

I grinned. "Well, in a manner of speaking."

He just rolled his eyes at me.

"Master Harry!"

He looked down at his feet. Oh, I remember that one. Made for a very _cheery_ Christmas holiday a few years back, if I recall.

"Kreacher," Harry said with a smile. "You're still here?"

"Kreacher will be happy to leave, if Master Harry wishes. He only stays to serve Master Harry, because none of the other elves know how to make Master his steak and kidney pie the way Master likes—"

"Well, thank you, Kreacher," Harry rushed to say, blushing slightly. "But we've gone over this. You don't have to call me 'master.'"

"As you wish, sir," Kreacher said, bowing low. I rolled my eyes. He doesn't even like houseelves to defer to him. But I suppose that's what makes him Harry.

"Actaully, Kreacher, that pie does sound delicious. Would you make me some?"

"Kreacher would be delighted, sir!" And the wrinkled little green thing rushed off somewhere into the mass of elves.

Harry and I sat at a table just as another elf came up with a tray. "Your lemonade, Miss, and Victory Punch for Master Harry Potter!" The elf said with an extravagant bow.

Harry looked confused. "But I didn't ask for any Victory Punch."

"I made it special for Master Harry Potter, sir, because yous saved us all!"

"Oh, well, thank you," he said, blushing slightly and taking the goblet. The little elf squeaked his delight and then left.

"So," I asked, trying to keep the smirk off my face, "How does victory taste?"

He sniffed it, then took a sip. "Tangy."

I laughed. "Excellent."

He made a face at me, then asked, "So what did you come down here for?"

"Erm, lemonade?"

"Ginny," he said, his tone indicating that he didn't believe that for a second. Well, I might as well tell him, I suppose.

"Mum wants me to clean up the Burrow, and I thought I might borrow a few houseelves to help me do it."

He laughed. "Alright, well, you can take Kreacher. And as for any more, well, how many did you want, anyway?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Maybe five? I think that would be more than enough to finish the cleaning in a day or two, don't you think?"

He nodded, thinking. "Five would do it, the Burrow isn't that big from top to bottom. You might even be able to do it in a day and a half…we could smuggle out a couple more, say seven, and then you could_ really_ get the cleaning done."

I grinned. Sometimes I really love my boyfriend.

"How are we going to get them out, though? They're bound to the house that they serve."

"I've got an idea," I whispered conspiratorially, looking about for the elf that brought us our drinks. "Did you catch the name of the elf that gave you the Victory Punch?"

He shook his head. "I forgot to ask."

I laughed. "Right, what with the invention of Victory Punch just for you and all."

That was met with a grimace, as I knew it would be. But then I spotted the elf just a table away, setting a platter of steaming rice onto the table. It promptly disappeared, and I had to assume that we were missing dinner in the Great Hall. Taking my chance before I lost sight of him, I went over to that table.

"Erm, hello," I began awkwardly.

"Miss! What can Bonky do for yous, Miss?"

"Well, erm, Bonky, I need to ask your help with something."

"Anything, Miss! We serves the people of Hogwarts with the highest honor!"

Right, _Hogwarts_. That's the problem.

"Well, Bonky, I need to take you and a few of your friends home with me for a few days, to help me clean up the mess that Voldemort made."

I wasn't sure if I should take the gamble and say Voldemort, but the elf became instantly solemn.

It took a few moments, but eventually, "Bonky would be most honored, Miss, to help you fix yous home now that You-Know-Who is gone, Miss. Most honored."

hhhhhh

I hope you liked it!


	6. Back to the Burrow

Hello everyone!

Chapter six here. Umm, so, here we have a whole chapter of Harry and Ginny all alone. And don't worry, it's just them hanging out and being boyfriend and girlfriend, nothing to cover your kids' eyes for. It's a bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but it seemed right to end it. So anyways, Harry and Ginny at the Burrow, everyone!

Thanks to my amazing reviewers, _DukeBrymin, isigirl, SiriusObsession, and Snape1918_. Thanks so much, guys :D

Here it is, I hope you like it!

xxxxxx

Glancing at the map, I beckoned for Ginny to follow with the elves. We only mean to borrow them for a while, and I'm sure McGonagall wouldn't mind that the Weasleys were borrowing them, but I still don't want to be caught with them. There's just something about it, you know?

For her part, Ginny just seems to be having fun with the little adventure.

She was herding the house-elves along with a delighted look on her face, an expression that was hard to look away from, actually. There is just something divine about her smile.

"Merlin!" I whispered, facing front again and finding Mrs. Norris. "Is Filch really still here?"

Ginny actually shooed her away.

I gave her a questioning look.

"We've, uh, sort of become friends."

"_Really_?" Now this is a story I want to hear.

"Um, yeah."

"Do tell."

"Why?"

"I'm curious."

She sighed. "Well, I thought at first that Filch would be thrilled, having Snape and the Carrows with all their horrible punishments. I mean, you know how he used to talk about the old punishments that were banned."

"Yeah, I remember," I shuddered for my first-year self, remembering his description of chains and thumbscrews.

"Well," she continued, pausing only so that we could all slip out a side door of the castle. We were suddenly in the fresh spring air with an expanse of deserted land between us and the edge of the grounds. "Turns out that was just talk, just so he could scare the younger ones into behaving. And when he found out what we were up to one night, we never got in trouble after that."

"What?"

"Yeah, threw me for a loop, definitely."

"That's impossible. He actually let students get away?"

"Yeah. I suppose he thought we weren't doing anything that merited the Crutiatus Curse. And one night I heard him hobbling away muttering about Dumbledore's memory."

"Wow." Old Filch actually had a soft spot. Or, at the very least, he had enough respect for Dumbledore to try to protect the students. "I never would have thought."

"Me either," she said softly, almost like she was lost in a memory. "But he turned out to be pretty decent, when it mattered."

"This is the same man who wanted me expelled several times, right?"

Ginny laughed. "The very same. I think. I suppose someone might have polyjuiced him—but no, Mrs. Norris would have noticed."

I couldn't say anything to that. I never thought old Filch had that in him.

"We're here," Ginny announced, snapping me back to the present. We had reached the edge of the grounds, a step beyond the gate and we could apparate away.

"Alright," I said, ushering all the house-elves into a line. "Now, a two at a time will hold on to me, and I'll apparate you all there."

They all nodded, and the first few elves took my hands. I gave Ginny a smile before I twirled on the spot.

xxxxxxxxx

By the time Harry had come back for me, he had a rather grim expression on his face. All the elves had gone, and so I was able to hug him tightly as we apparated home.

All my worries became truths the moment I opened my eyes. Our house was in utter shambles. And not just overgrown gardens and a messy sink. It seems the Death Eaters must have visited while we were gone.

The house looked entirely rundown. Half the shutters were littering the ground, the other half were hanging at odd angles. Most of the windows were blown in, and I could only imagine that there would be plenty of glass to clean up inside. The front door had been burnt to cinders, and the flames must have licked up all around the frame, because paint was peeling everywhere. And this was only the front of the house.

I was suddenly aware that Harry was still holding me tightly.

"I'm fine," I said softly, pushing away from him as calmly as I could.

"Are you su—"

"I'm _fine_. It's all over now, anyway. We only have to clean it up."

He nodded and took my hand, leading me into the house.

When we made our way to the kitchen, I found that two of the elves had already set to work in there, clearing away old dishes that had been left in our haste. I could have sworn that Mum had fired a quick scourgify at that them as we went out the door, but I suppose I was concentrating on more important things. Hearing that Dad had been detained at the Ministry meant that we had to leave immediately, and Mum and I had been out the door with the clock before we really even had time to think. I looked up, half expecting to see the clock back up on the wall.

Of course it wasn't there.

It must still be at Auntie Muriel's sitting somewhere in her labyrinth of rooms. I suppose Mum or Dad will go ask her for it eventually.

It occurred to me that I shouldn't be so calm, but then I realized that Harry was still holding my hand. It's difficult to lose your calm when Harry Potter is next to you. Can I be perfectly blunt and say that he's comforting me more with the title of Boy-Who-Lived than Boyfriend at the moment?

It's just…it's over…and that's what's keeping me calm, I suppose. It's really over, and there's nothing we have to do anymore. These are only testaments to the fight that we won.

It's only a memory.

"Where have the rest gone?" I asked, suddenly realizing that there were only two elves working in the kitchen.

"Upstairs," he told me quietly. I think he was waiting for me to explode. But I wasn't going to. I was fine. "I told these two to work in here since we're all going to need to be fed, and the others are already working in the bedrooms. Starting at the very top, you know, and working their way down."

I nodded. It was a good plan. "I'll head into the sitting room, then. Get started in there, you know."

He nodded in response, and I felt him follow me out of the kitchen. A household spell book is meant to be in here somewhere…if I can only find it. I picked my way around several pieces of upturned furniture, more proof of the Death Eaters' visit, to reach the old wall that was lined with books. It was perfectly intact, despite the state of everything else in the room. Mum must have put some spell on it that was flame-proof.

I was only vaguely aware of the sound of furniture being righted behind me. I was busy searching for that book. What was it called? Something about household nuisances, maybe…

_Quick Fixes for Humdrum Household Chores_. Yep, that was the one. I remember the glossy cover from before Hogwarts, when I had nothing to do but follow Mum around all day—

I whipped around to the sound of a crash.

"Sorry," called Harry's voice, his arm waving from under a sofa. I rushed over and righted it.

"How did you get _under_ it?"

"Erm…I'm not sure."

I couldn't help it. I started laughing.

Really hard.

I even completely forgot about actually _helping_ him get out from under the sofa. Fortunately, he wasn't wedged under too tightly, so he wriggled out himself. Unfortunately, I was still giggling.

"Think it's funny, do you?" He asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and humor deep in his voice.

I stopped giggling at once, sensing the bit of danger in his voice. He took a step in my direction.

"Poor little Harry gets stuck under the couch, and you think it's funny?"

I bolted out of the house.

He ran after me, taking up the little game. "I'll catch you, you know!"

I snorted and ran faster. I was always quicker on my feet than he was. And I proved it to him time and again during Quidditch dril—

"AHH!" I screamed when he was suddenly in front of me, and I couldn't stop myself from crashing right into him and knocking us both over.

I took a second to catch my breath.

Then I slapped him.

"OW! What was that for?"

"Harry Potter, you _cheated_!"

He shrugged. "You never said that apparating wasn't allowed."

I groaned. "I'm saying it now. Apparating is so not allowed."

"Alright, fine," he said, rolling his eyes at me and rolling us both over. Next thing I knew, he was snogging me. In my own backyard! I nearly pushed him away before I realized that there was no one there to catch us, and none of my brothers were here to try to scare Merlin's pants off him for snogging their sister.

Yeah, once I remembered that bit, I figured I would just enjoy snogging Harry outside in the sunshine.

I mean, it really was rather lovely out.

And Harry _was_ a fantastic snog.

xxxxxxxx

I really don't know why the elves keep sending furtive glances in my direction. I mean, they don't think I'm a slave-driver, do they? I'd love to pay them if they would let me, Merlin knows I have money enough, and—

"Harry?"

"Yes?" I asked, turning to Ginny's voice.

"I was just wondering, do you remember what color my curtains were?"

"I'm sorry?"

"My curtains," she repeated, sounding as thought it was the most normal question in the world. "They've disappeared, somehow, and I forgot what color they were. I was wondering if you remembered."

Er, no. "Sorry, Gin. I've only been in your room once, and I was much more interested in you than your curtains."

She looked disappointed but gave me a small smile. "Oh, well, thanks anyway. I suppose I can use this as a chance to redecorate. I mean, my room's been the same for as long as I can remember."

She was starting to turn away when I opened my fat mouth. I would regret it later.

"Why don't you redecorate the whole house?"

She cocked a brow at me in question.

"You'll never have another chance like this, I mean, eight elves to help you do it? I'm sure your Mum would want to," I encouraged, thinking of all the mismatched furniture in the sitting room and the peeling paint all around the house. Not that I mind it. It makes it homey to me, and completely the opposite of Privet Drive. But I've caught Mrs. Weasley looking dissatisfied more than once. And if anyone deserves a lovely home, it's Mrs. Weasley.

"You have a point," she agreed, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. I ended up sitting beside her on the bed. "And Mum's been talking for ages about putting new furniture in the sitting room."

"Why wouldn't she just transfigure it into new furniture?"

"I never asked."

I grinned. "Well, then, she probably won't object…"

Ginny gave me a mischievous grin. "Probably not."

We set to work right away, going back down to the sitting room and flicking our wands at different pieces of furniture.

"Just don't change the bookshelf," Ginny warned me, nodding toward the small library that dominated the entire south wall. It was actually rather handsome, despite the state of everything else in the room. Made out of a deeply browned oak, it was built into the wall. There was a trim inlaid all around, marking its borders and separating shelves. Since I was standing right next to it, I began caressing the trim lightly. It was very fine and smooth, silky under my fingers.

"Mum and Dad built it together when they left Hogwarts," she told me quietly. "We can't change that."

I nodded. "Alright."

xxxxx

We'd worked on the sitting room for a good portion of that afternoon. Ginny had taken her time deciding on the color of the walls and carpeting, not to mention that she had suddenly decided the walls were bare. Unfortunately, I was a little too helpful with that issue, and I came up with the idea of transfiguring rocks into wall decorations. That should have been a job for Hermione, but, oddly enough, I had proved rather handy at it and Ginny set me to work on paintings and frames for the next hour.

"I have pictures of paintings," she said when I protested that I couldn't paint. "You just transfigure it to look like the picture."

Sighing, I did as I was told. And they did turn out rather well. Ginny seemed pleased, at least.

"I think Mum will like it," she announced, surveying the area critically with her hands on her hips. "She's been talking about this for years."

I just nodded, afraid to make any comment that might spark another remodeling idea. "Well, it smells like dinner in the kitchen, so—"

"Oh! The kitchen! And that will only be the beginning, we have to do my room and Mum and Dad's…it's probably best to just clean the boys' rooms up, put them right, you know, but not change them at all…they can change them the way they want to later…"

Oh Merlin, what have I gotten myself into? I'm supposed to be rebuilding Hogwarts! I didn't realize how much work this would be when I suggested it this morning. Although, honestly, I think it could have gone a lot faster if Ginny had just _decided_, rather than making me change the colors seven times.

_Seven_. Honestly.

But I did it anyway because, other than Hogwarts, the Burrow is the only place that has ever felt like home. Ginny wasn't the only one who was upset to see it in such a state this morning.

"Mistress, Master Harry," Kreacher said, bowing in the doorway, "Dinner is served."

"Well, thanks, Kreacher," I told him, leading Ginny into the kitchen. We were greeted with the smells of roast beef and freshly baked bread. Already there was a spread of things on the table. But it seemed that none of the elves were planning on sitting with us.

"Just sit, Harry," Ginny whispered, prodding me in the side when I looked like I was about to protest. "It'll make them feel better."

Grimacing, I did as I was told. But I couldn't help myself.

"Sit with us," I asked Kreacher and the other elf. She still hadn't told me her name. "Please."

The other elf promptly burst into tears.

I jumped in my seat, not knowing quite what to do with her. Kreacher gave her a reprimanding look.

"You will have to forgive Winnie, Master Harry," Kreacher said, bowing low. "She believes that you are her true master, and that she belongs at Potter Manor."

I was gobsmacked.

"She belongs at Potter Manor?"

Was there such a place?

Well, I suppose there must have been, but I always just wrote it off in the back of my mind. I always assumed that it would have been destroyed.

"Yes, Master," Kreacher assured me, although he looked disapproving of the words. "She says she wants to go home. She believes that she belongs at Potter Manor, since you have returned as its heir. She says you remind her very much of her Master James."

"Really?" I asked the little elf, unthinkingly stretching out a hand. She flinched away, and I pulled it back quickly. But I couldn't help asking. "You really knew my dad?"

She sniffed and nodded. "Yes, sir. Master James and Mistress Lily and Master Potter and Mistress Potter. I knew them all."

It took me a few minutes to absorb that information. This elf was my tie to my parents. And my grandparents. She knew them, remembered them in ways that I couldn't.

I could barely think.

What could she tell me about them?

"Well," Ginny said, breaking the silence, "at least now we know why they were all staring at you all day."

Kreacher stepped forward again, volunteering more information on behalf of the crying elf. "Winnie is only one, Master. The others all claim to belong to you as well. That is why they volunteered to leave Hogwarts."

"Even Bonky?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, Mistress."

I was still at a loss for words.

Ginny seemed to sense that I wasn't able to speak.

"Harry is tired," she told the two elves in a comforting voice. "Please, let us eat, and he will speak with you all tomorrow."

"They should eat and get some sleep," I managed to croak before they walked away.

"Oh, right," Ginny said, seeming to have forgotten that they needed to be told to do such things. "You should all have some dinner, and get a good night's rest. There's plenty of beds, just don't use the one on the fourth landing."

Kreacher murmured a 'yes, mistress' before backing out of the room with a still-sniffling Winnie.

I sensed more than saw her turn back to me. I sensed her walk toward me, and I sensed her confusion. She didn't know what to say to me.

_I_ didn't know what to say to me.

My last tie with my parents is an old mansion and a bunch of houseelves. I suppose I should be happy that there's something left. But honestly, it all just feels like inheritances.

And inheritance has become a rather dirty word, in my vocabulary.

Someone always has to die for me to inherit things. My parents died, so I inherited a mound of gold. Sirius died, so I inherited _another_ mound of gold and Grimmauld Palace. And now I'm finding that I've inherited another house.

A mansion. A big, empty, cold mansion.

And a bunch of houseelves that are meant to fill it.

I don't know that I _want_ another inheritance.

xxxxx

I hope you liked it :D


	7. Unmade Memories

Hello everyone!

Chapter 7 here! So, here's Potter Manor. I didn't really go into detail because I didn't think that was really important. This chapter is more about Harry reacting to the childhood he should have had, if Voldemort had never existed. If you read my other story about Lily and James (it's called _Mere Mortals_) then you will probably have a deeper sense of nostalgia about the Manor. But don't feel that it's necessary to understand what Harry is feeling here.

Thanks to all my amazing reviewers, _PottedLilies, SiriusObsesssion, isigirl, _and _DukeBrymin_. Thanks so much, guys!

xxxxxx

The morning was no better than the night before. I could tell Ginny was getting truly worried.

She put her hand on my shoulder lightly, urging me to look at her.

"You didn't have dinner, Harry, you have to have breakfast."

I blinked down at the table, suddenly aware that I had a plate. And there were steaming pancakes with a smiley-face on them.

I was slightly disgusted.

"The elves are excited to go back to Potter Manor," she whispered to me in explanation, almost as if saying it quietly wouldn't be as upsetting.

I just nodded.

We had decided last night that we would finish the cleaning here by mid-morning, then apparate to Potter Manor. But that didn't mean that I actually wanted to go. And Ginny knew that.

She nudged my arm. "Eat."

I did as I was told, but I was feeling a bit nauseous. And we were getting ready to go to Potter Manor much too soon for my liking. I would much rather have stayed at the Burrow. But everything was clean now, even the redecorating was done, and so we had to go.

I had to go see my inheritance.

At least the elves were excited. They had been puttering about all morning, whistling and cheerful. The exact opposite of my mood, in other words.

"You will take my hand today, Master Harry," Winnie said happily, "And I will take us to Potter Manor!"

I tried to give her a smile, but from Ginny's expression it must have come out more like a grimace.

"Thank you, Winnie," Ginny said, smiling. "That sounds fine."

The little elf squeaked with happiness and immediately took my hand.

I felt myself being yanked through that awful suction tube, and just as I was about to suffocate my feet hit ground. I could suddenly breathe again.

"I will now get Mistress, Master Harry," Winnie squeaked at me, apparating with a loud crack.

I looked around quickly, hoping that no one had heard. But we were too far up from the village for anyone to have seen or heard her disappear. I shook my head, suddenly realizing that she would have known that.

I turned slowly on the spot, taking everything in. There was such a large expanse of ground that I'm sure I would need a broomstick to cross it in a reasonable amount of time. And, given the mounds of gold in my Gringotts vault, I have a nasty feeling that the small wood on the far end doesn't really mark the end of the property.

And the house itself….

Well, the title of manor was well-deserved, I have to say. If only there was a turret here or there I might have called it a small castle. Or a large fort, at the very least. As it was, I was staring at a rather impressive manor.

This is where I would have grown, if Mum and Dad had been there. This is where I would have come home every Christmas and summer. I may have even looked forward to it.

I couldn't help it.

I burst into peals of laughter.

This, all of this—and the life that went with it—would have been mine if Voldemort had never existed.

That bloody bastard.

xxxxxx

"Bonky, I would like you to take two others and go clean the house-elf quarters, erm, wherever they may be."

"Yes, Miss!" Bonky replied slightly unenthusiastically, but nonetheless he quickly gathered up two of the other elves and made out of the kitchen with them. Well, I suppose it's a house-elf thing to need to take care of the wizard portion of the house before their own quarters, but Harry will never forgive me if I let them work all day without a nice bed tonight. And anyhow, I've never had a house-elf before, but if Dobby was any example I think they deserve to be treated just as well as any wizard.

Better than some wizards, actually.

"Kreacher, I'm putting you in charge of the kitchen again. Do you think you can manage it by yourself?"

"Kreacher would be most honored to tend to Harry Potter's kitchen, Miss," he said, bowing low. "You may be assured that it will be spotless by nightfall, befitting of a king's palace—"

"Thank you, Kreacher. I am sure you will do wonderfully," I cut him off. Honestly, I'm glad he likes Harry now, but he can get a bit annoying. "And you don't need to clean the whole thing today, just be sure that you can get some meals on the table for everyone. Oh! What foods do you need?" I asked, suddenly realizing that this house had been abandoned for at least twenty years.

"Kreacher will go to Diagon Alley, Miss, just as he did yesterday. You needn't be bothered by my humble tasks."

"Oh, right," I mumbled, realizing too late that we hadn't really had food in the ice box at the Burrow either. Well, at least he's got it all worked out.

I turned my attention to the last of the house-elves. "Winnie, how large is the manor?"

"We has two floors above ground and one below, Miss!" She answered cheerfully. Wow, she really is happy to be home. "And each floor is the size of two Quidditch stadiums!"

Holy Merlin.

That is a lot of cleaning, even for seven house-elves.

"Well then," I said, strategizing with the four elves I had left. From what I can see, there's no need for anything more than dusting, really. And not all the rooms need to be dusted right _now_. "Winnie, you will take two elves upstairs to help you clean one room for Harry and one room for me to sleep in. Then you will come back down to help me and the other elves clean the main floor."

"Yes, Miss!" Three elves disappeared so quickly I thought they might have apparated.

Well alright then. I motioned for the last elf to follow me out of the kitchen so that we could set to work.

xxxxxx

I'm not entirely sure what I expected to find here.

I suppose I expected destruction. Death.

Instead, there is only dust.

Everything is perfectly in place. I've gone through at least twenty rooms, and I expected each one must be the one where I would find some sign of a fight.

But nothing.

They are all pristine.

Well, I mean, expect for the inch of dust on every surface.

At some point, I made my way up a grand, spiral staircase and found myself in a hall full of bedchambers. I pushed one door further open and made my way inside.

It had obviously been empty for a while before the house had been abandoned. There were no small effects to make it look like home to anyone, except for a few photos that had been framed by the bed. Closer inspection showed them to be moving captures of James and Sirius, fooling about on broomsticks and laughing wildly.

But one tiny picture, in the very back, did not move. It was a picture of a boy who looked very much like Sirius, although the difference between the two was apparent. I never would have imagined that Sirius had kept a picture of his brother.

It must have been the only still he could find, because it was unmoving and obviously very outdated. Regulus could not have been older than ten in the photograph.

I almost gathered all the photos to put in Hagrid's old album before I realized that there was no need. These were already mine, and they wouldn't be going anywhere. I decided to leave Sirius's room as he had left it, and went off to push open another door.

The next room I wandered into was obviously James's. Or Dad's, I suppose. I wonder why I never actually call them Mum and Dad, they're always James and Lily. Although I suppose it's hard to call someone Mum or Dad when you don't recall ever meeting them. It would be easier to call Mr. and Mrs. Weasley Mum and Dad, really.

I walked over to his bed and sank down onto it, looking about. After all these years, the closet was still propped open. Well, I suppose if it was left open it wouldn't close all by itself, it just seems…odd. It was still full of old clothes, quite a few of them muggle, and an old Comet 360. A sense of longing kicked in and I was sorely tempted to take the rusty old thing out for a spin before I heard a soft pattering of footsteps out in the hall.

I went to the door just in time to see the little elf scurrying past.

"Erm, Winnie?"

She turned immediately. "Yes, Master Harry?"

I stopped for a moment. What exactly had I been planning to say?

"Erm…was, was this James's room?"

Why did I bother asking that? This is _obviously_ James's room.

"Yes, Master Harry, but he spent most of his time in Miss Lily's room. Winnie did not tell Mistress this, of course, but Winnie knew that Master James did not sleep in his own bed."

"My Mum? She has a room here?"

"Yes, Master. Master James brought Miss Lily here after the Evanses died, Master."

I stood there in shock for a moment. Thankfully, Winnie waited for me to unscramble my brains and didn't leave.

"Can you take me to her room?"

"Yes, Master," she squeaked, "Winnie would be delighted!"

xxxxxx

I found him sitting in a room stuffed with golden lace. It was a bit nauseating, actually.

The lace, I mean, not Harry. Harry was just depressing.

Despite the chairs scattered about the room, he was sitting on the bed, just staring about. I leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to bother him. I mean, I was upset to see the Burrow a few days ago, but it's just a house. This is entirely different for Harry. I'm sure he would gladly have this house shattered to pieces if only he could have his family put back together.

I don't know how long I stood there before his stare finally fell on me. I managed a weak smile, and he beckoned me over to him.

"Always trying to get me in bed with you, eh, Potter?"

He didn't even bother to blush. He was really in a mood, then.

I walked over and sat next to him, taking his hand. "Out with it, then. What's got your wand in a knot?"

He wasn't looking at me anymore. He was back to looking about the room.

"This is where my Mum stayed, after her parents were killed. And the way Winnie tells it, this is where she and Dad spent most of their time until they got married and moved to Godric's Hollow."

My lips fell into a rather round 'o.' Well, that explains why he's so intent on memorizing the place.

After a few minutes of holding his hand, I thought I had come up with a solution. One that might even let me get food into his stomach.

"How about we leave this room just as it is?" I suggested. "I mean, not that we've changed anything else, we've only cleaned up a bit of dust. But, let's just leave this room exactly as it is, to remember your Mum and Dad in it."

He didn't respond for a moment, but then he shook his head.

"No. I've been sitting in these bedrooms all day, and it hasn't done me any good. I have photos of them, to remember them by. But all of these bedrooms need to be changed."

I nodded. It was his decision, after all. "Okay."

xxxxxx

I was prodded awake the next morning by a certain impatient redhead.

Well, at least she had a steaming plate of waffles in her other hand.

"Morning," I mumbled as I sat up and made to take the plate from her. She moved it away quickly.

"Not until you're up and dressed. We have to get back to Hogwarts today, I'm sure everyone noticed that you're missing."

I groaned, but I rolled over and headed toward the loo. By the time I came back out, Ginny had left the plate on a nearby table and disappeared. I decided that if she had time to disappear, I had time to eat properly. So I sat down and tucked in.

I was nearly finished with my stack by the time she reappeared at the door.

"Alright, I've got the house-elves all organized," she told me, striding over to take a seat at the opposite me. I have to say, these giant bedrooms seem silly at first glance, but they're very convenient once you give them a couple of days. But Ginny was fixing me with her business-stare, so I knew I should pay attention or risk getting hexed.

"I told Kreacher to stay here, at least for the time being. I know he's bound to the master of Grimmauld Palace, but we don't know if there might still be Death Eaters who can get in there, and there's no need to put him in harm's way."

I nodded. "Agreed."

"Winnie and Bonky seem to have a handle on the other elves. Apparently Winnie was your grandmum's favorite and used to run the whole cleaning production. I'm sure she'll have everything in order while we're at Hogwarts. And as for us, well, we've been gone four days, and I'm sure we'll have some explaining to do when we get back. Let's hope they haven't sent out another search party."

"Mmm. I did promise Kingsley that I wouldn't disappear again."

"You broke your promise."

"I realized, thanks."

Finally a grin broke through her business-stare. "Are you excited to get back home?"

I grinned. "Yeah, you have no idea."

xxxxxx

I hope you liked it! Please review!


	8. Broken, but Not Shattered

Hello everyone!

Chapter eight here. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. Please don't lynch me. I've been absolutely swamped with summer classes, and I just finished a round of midterms ( I should be writing a round of papers now, but whatever). Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and please review!

Thanks again to my amazing reviewers, _SiriusObession, PottedLilies, DukeBrymin, _ and _live4dance_.

xxxxx

She did not look happy.

I gulped.

Maybe a little too loudly.

Ginny dropped my hand, and I didn't even have to look to know that she had flushed to the color of her hair.

"Ginevra, Harry," McGonagall finally said, "Where have you been?"

"Well, erm, you see—"

"We were only doing what Mum said—"

"The Burrow was a mess—"

"Enough!"

Ginny and I both fell silent.

"Now, _one_ of you will give me a comprehensive account of where you have been for the past week."

"It was only four days—"

"Ginevra Weasley," McGonagall interrupted. Ginny immediately fell silent again. "Your mother has been absolutely distraught. Kingsley Shacklebolt was considering another search for the two of you. We have jut barely managed to keep the news of your disappearance from The Prophet. And as for convincing me that you were at The Burrow, Potter, you can try again. Molly looked for you there and couldn't find you. So I will repeat—_where have you been_?"

I took a deep breath. "We spent a day and a half at the Burrow. The rest of the time we were at Potter Manor."

I actually saw surprise on her face.

"Potter Manor? How did you find it?"

"Well, erm…" I still wasn't sure how to broach the subject of stealing a bunch of house-elves from the kitchens.

"It was my fault, Professor," Ginny cut in.

"No, wait, Gin, it wasn't all your fault—"

"Mum wanted me to go fix up the Burrow, so I thought maybe I could borrow a few house-elves to help me do it." Oh no, she's going to admit to the whole story, isn't she. "So we brought some with us, and we didn't realize that they only agreed to leave Hogwarts because they recognized Harry as a Potter, and they belonged to Potter Manor. So after a whole episode from Winnie the elves took us to Potter Manor and we spent the rest of our time there." She stopped and took a deep breath. I looked back at McGonagall, then breathed a sigh of relief as well.

She was slightly amused, slightly saddened, but no longer angry enough to take on a mountain troll.

"So the elves belonged to the Potter Manor and they took you to it?"

"Yes, Professor."

I just nodded with my eyes cast to the floor. Suddenly I couldn't stand to see the look on her face anymore. She looked like she was reminiscing, and I wasn't in the mood for it.

"Very well, then," McGonagall conceded. "Go and see your family. They will be glad to see you both in one piece."

We nodded and rushed out of the office.

xxxxx

"Hermione? Ron?"

"Move over, Harry, I want to talk to them too."

"Gin, they're not even there—"

"Oi! I'm here, I'm here!" Ron's voice called from somewhere in the room. I could barely make him out because of the smoke. Wherever they are, the chimney needs to be cleaned.

"Well get over here, you troll," Ginny snorted, having thrown in a pinch of powder and put her head into the flames. "We're kind of immobile here. You, on the other hand…"

"Alright, alright, I'm almost there," he called. But his footsteps stopped and he was still too hard to see.

"Erm, Ron?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"Where are you?"

"Right here. I just have to grab—OW!"

"Oh, honestly, Ron, what are you doing?" Ginny asked, obviously exasperated.

He settled in front of us a moment later, clutching a large tin of chocolate and something that was very poorly wrapped.

"Erm, so Gin, where wouldn't a girl look for a surprise?"

"What?"

"Your underpants drawer," I answered immediately, then promptly flushed.

Ron didn't seem to notice. He just shook his head. "No good, Hermione goes in there regularly to put my things away."

Ginny harrumphed. "Ronald Weasley, you are perfectly capable of putting away your own underpants."

"Yeah, but she always just does it. I dunno why."

"More like you don't care why, as long as you don't have to do anything," Ginny argued. "Honestly Ron, Mum taught you better than that—"

"Gin?" I cut in, "Can we talk about this some other time? That's not why we flooed."

She harrumphed again and crossed her arms in annoyance. An entirely pointless gesture, since Ron couldn't see anything other than her head.

I turned back to Ron. "Where is Hermione, anyway?"

"Right now, she's out shopping."

I paused for a moment.

"She's out shopping?"

"Yep."

Ron seemed to think that answer was self-explanatory, because he settled back into the couch and closed his eyes.

"Why is she out shopping?"

"She wants a new dress."

"She wants a new dress?"

"Yep."

"Oh, honestly, Ron," Ginny finally burst out a few moments later, "Why does she need a new dress? You're supposed to be looking for her parents!"

"Found'em. We're meeting them tomorrow. So she wants a new dress."

"Merlin's bloody torn pants," Ginny muttered, and I could practically feel her rolling her eyes from the sarcasm infused in her voice. "You couldn't have formed that sentence three minutes ago? You had to talk like a blithering idiot and leave us completely confused."

Ron merely shrugged. "She went shopping for a new dress to meet her parents. Tomorrow."

The chuckle that I had been holding in finally made its way out. "So Hermione found them? Has she talked to them yet?"

"Not yet. She wants to look nice."

"Hence the dress," Ginny commented dryly.

"Right, well, let us know how that goes, mate," I told him, settling back onto my feet. I suppose we can just chat a bit now, since they don't need my help to find the Grangers.

xxxxx

"Oh, it's so good to hear that they'll be home soon," Mum said with a relieved sigh as she straightened up pillows around the common room. I don't know why she was so worried. It's not like Voldemort was banished to Australia.

"It is, dear," Dad agreed, patting her back reassuringly.

"It will be so nice to have the kids back here, we haven't seen Ron properly in nearly a year." She re-straightened a pillow that she had already fixed three times. She was about to reach for it again before she realized what she was doing.

I saw Harry look down guiltily. Stupid boy, no one blames you. They're proud of Ron, not angry with you.

Mum sighed and moved to another couch just as George came down the boys' stairs, took a look around at us, then turned around and walked right back up the staircase.

Mum looked like she was about to go up after him, but Dad took her hand to keep her back. There was nothing she could do—nothing _anyone_ could do—until George was ready to talk. He had taken to the life of a hermit since…well, since that night. We don't even see him at mealtimes anymore. Though I'm not sure if that's coming from his desire to avoid everyone or his current apathy toward food.

Either way, I could do nothing for him at the moment, so I settled back into the couch and saw Mum do the same. Harry was still staring at the floor.

Dad cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, why don't we all go down to the Great Hall for some dinner?"

"Dinner," Mum said, nodding somewhat distantly and moving to get up, "Dinner. Yes, dinner is a good idea…"

Dad followed her out of the portrait hole but Harry and I stayed put.

We were silent.

I didn't like it.

"How's the rebuilding coming along?"

Stupid. I shouldn't have said that. Small talk is ridiculous.

"It's coming along nicely," Harry responded, still not taking his eyes off the floor. "We should be ready to reopen the school in time for the new semester."

I nodded, not knowing how to draw it out any longer. I mean, what was I supposed to ask, what color bricks they were ordering?

"The Astronomy Tower has almost finished being rebuilt," he supplied, trying to prolong the small talk as well. "I'll have to talk to Luna about her mural—"

"It's not your fault, Harry," I blurted.

He fell silent.

"You know it is, Gin."

"It's not. And no one blames you."

"They should. I brought this on you all."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Harry seemed to hate the sound.

"You didn't, Harry. You stopped lots more people from dying. That's all you ever did. And just because a few people died protecting you doesn't mean that you killed them all."

"Yes it doe—"

"_Voldemort_ killed them, Harry. _Voldemort_. And they stood between you willingly because they knew that you could end it all, you just needed the time to do it. I bet if you were able to ask them they would all tell you that they didn't regret dying for you."

He was silent for a moment, thoughtful, as if he was considering something. Then his expression turned sour and angry again. "You can't know that."

I snorted in derision. "Right, I couldn't possibly know that Dumbledore knew how important you are, I've only watched him give you special treatment for years. I couldn't possibly know how much Sirius loved you, I only lived with the two of you for months. And I couldn't possibly know that any mother would die in her child's place."

I didn't bother giving the why's for that last one. I'm sure he can figure it out.

He took a deep breath, and as he turned his face away a saw a single tear trailing down his cheek.

"Harry," I murmured, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around me automatically, but I could tell that he was uncomfortable. "Harry you didn't hurt anyone. You tried to keep people from getting hurt. And you succeeded."

"And what about all the people who died? I didn't succeed, Ginny."

"Yes," I nodded against his chest, "You did. They knew what they were doing, and they knew that they might die for it. And they succeeded too, because we won."

Harry let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"How can you say that we won when we lost so much?"

"I look at what we gained, Harry. How else?"

xxxxx

After a rather odd songfest in which I comforted Harry—I had always imagined that if there were tears during a snog _I_ would be the one getting comforted, but I suppose maybe I should take a step into the modern world—we went down to the Great Hall. We were both rather ravenous and ready for dinner.

We had just settled in next to a large steak and kidney pie when Luna plopped down across from us.

"Hello Harry, hello Ginny," she said airily, sipping something she carried with her. I've no guesses as to what it was, exactly, but it was large and colorful, with a convoluted straw twisting over the top.

We murmured our hello's.

"I've brought you some sketches, Harry," Luna said, producing an armful of parchment rolls. "I didn't put any crumple-horned snorkacks in, but you should know that they're crawling with wrackspurts."

I inspected the rolls over Harry's shoulder, and, while I admit I don't know what wrackspurts look like, I didn't see anything unusual on them.

"Wow, Luna, these are, erm, great," Harry said, looking through the rolls. "Why did you make so many?"

"You seemed worried about what I would draw," Luna explained. She seemed far too unaffected to be saying that she knew her sanity was being questioned. "I thought it was best to draw a few so that you could pick your favorite."

Harry flushed at her honesty and quickly busied himself with studying the drawings. "Well, they all look fantastic, thanks, Luna."

"Mmm," she murmured happily, already helping herself to treacle pudding. "I'm like the one with the exploding bonbon in it, but you can decide."

I held in a laugh as I saw Harry's eyes open a little wider. It seemed he found the exploding bonbon picture.

"Erm, I don't think that's quite the message we want to portray, Luna, but maybe the one with the centaur and the squid would be nice…"

That's when I started to tune them out.

I know I should have concentrated, to help Harry out of the awkwardly honest Luna moments.

I know I should have.

But that treacle pudding really was good.

xxxxx

I hope you liked it! Please review!


	9. Bittersweet Homecoming

Hello everyone :D

I'm glad to see you all. And I have very good news! I hope you don't all start throwing tomatoes, but I never really had a real outline for this story before. But now I do! It's all typed out and ready to go :D So this probably means updates will also be more frequent (although not until the next two weeks are over, since I will be writing papers for real life classes).

Anyways, I hope you like this installment, enjoy!

Huge thank you's to my wonderful reviewers, _sistersgrimmlover, DukeBrymin, isigirl,_ and _PottedLilies_. Love you guys!

xxxxx

"Ginny!"

"Hermione!"

I have to say, it was quite nice to watch the two of them hugging.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, suddenly noticing my presence. Half a second later, I found myself enveloped in a rather suffocating hug, complete with bushy brown hair in my face.

I couldn't help it, I had to hug her back. "Hermione," I welcomed her with a grin, "Where are your parents?"

"I've already dropped them off at home, Ron is helping them settle in," she told us, her voice returning to a more business-like tone. "I'll be going back there soon, but I just thought I'd stop in and check with Professor McGonagall, see if there's anything I can do for her quickly before I'm off…"

"So what you're saying is, you're glad your Mum and Dad are home but they're already driving you up a wall?" Ginny supplied with a knowing look.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, we can give you something to do, if you like," Ginny supplied. "I'm sure there's a couch in the common room that needs someone to sit on it."

Hermione sighed. "That honestly sounds _wonderful_."

xxxxx

"All I'm saying is that she can't leave me alone with her Dad and expect us to sit perfectly still watching the tele. I mean, there's no quidditch on a tele! Poor bloke was trying to explain some sport where all they could do was kick one little ball with their feet—can you imagine that? Only one ball and they can only touch it with their feet! I mean, really, how do muggles find this stuff exciting?"

"Well, I imagine most muggles haven't heard about quidditch, Ron, they have to settle for football."

"Football! That was what he called it! Bloody boring game, honestly—"

"Harry, Ron, there you are," Hermione said, coming to a stop right in front of us. "McGonagall wants to see us about something."

"What is it?" I asked, my interest piqued by her irritated expression.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted in annoyance. "She won't tell me until we're all in her office."

"Hey Harry, where's Ginny gone?" Hermione asked as we started out the portrait hole. "I've been looking for her all day and I thought you two were supposed to be attached at the hip—oh honestly, Ron, it's just an expression," she added when she saw him start to turn red. Whether it was in anger or embarrassment I wasn't sure, but I was glad to have Hermione between us at the moment.

"Erm, I think she went to help Mr. Weasley tend to Hagrid's gardens. They have to be replanted and all, and they need a little magical help if they're going to be ready for the opening feast," I answered, thankful that Ron returned to his normal coloration rather quickly. Honestly, it's not like I was about to say, 'oh, well Ginny's just lying in my bed with a whipped cream bathing suit on,' now was I.

Not that she was, of course, she really is down in the gardens…and honestly I've never been particularly fond of whipped cream.

Without even being aware of the trip, I suddenly found myself standing outside of McGonagall's office. Hermione knocked twice.

"Ah," McGonagall said crisply, standing back from the door and gesturing for us to enter, "Please, come in and have a seat. Crumpets?"

"Thanks," Ron said, grabbing one off the tray. I took one too, because her expression had eased my stomach somewhat. When Hermione first said that the three of us were wanted in the Headmistress's office, I was a bit worried. But she doesn't seem to be preparing any stories about the Death Eaters still active in Lancaster and Bath.

"Now then," She started once we were all seated. The Dumbledore behind her desk gave me a wink. I smiled back at him. I haven't fully forgiven him for not telling me everything, but I can respect a great man when I see one. "I'm glad to see you back, Weasley, Miss Granger," she acknowledged with a nod to each of them. "I hear that your trip went well?"

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "Mum and Dad are settling back in as we speak."

McGonagall gave her a genuine smile. "I'm glad to hear it. I'm sure they are very proud." Hermione blushed. "And I am immensely proud as well," she continued. All three of us blushed that time. I suppose we thought that not even defeating Voldemort could make McGonagall express pride. Although lately, that inscrutable exterior has been breaking a bit.

"That is the reason I have called you here today," she announced. I stared at her incredulously. Surely she didn't actually call us in so that she could shower us with praise? "In order to defeat him, you went on a quest for a year—clearly, you are all capable wizards. But, should you so desire, I am more than willing to offer you a place in this year's seventh year class. I understand that you have mastered many practical spells, but I encourage you to return in order to round out your knowledge and finish your Hogwarts education.

"You should know," she continued as she began searching through some parchment on her desk, "that this is not your only option. Harry, I recall that you wanted to become an auror—you do not have to finish your Hogwarts education to enter the program. Kingsley believes, as do I, that the three of you have enough magical knowledge to enter the program immediately. To be clear, you could begin with the class enrolled this fall."

The three of us simply sat there and stared at her, stupefied.

After a moment it became clear that the three of us weren't about to say anything, so she said, "I do not expect an answer at the moment. I am merely presenting you with your options."

"If we choose not to complete our Hogwarts education, we only have the auror department open to us, is that correct?"

Only Hermione could actually ask a legitimate question at a time like this. Personally, I'm still trying to figure out why I'm being asked to keep doing things, and I'm not sure what Ron's thinking.

"That is correct as I understand it, Miss Granger. You may either begin the auror program immediately, or you must finish your Hogwarts education."

Hermione nodded in concentration. "So you wouldn't advise me to apply to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without my final year NEWTS?"

Oh Merlin, only Hermione, really. Although what's Voldemort compared to ten NEWTS?

"Well Miss Granger, you could certainly apply," McGonagall said. "Your name might get you into the training program this year. I would delay it, myself, as there are several concepts in seventh year History of Magic that cover the original magical contract…"

And that was when I tuned out completely.

Instead, an image of Ginny in a chocolate bathing suit popped into my head.

Merlin, it really is a good thing that Ron isn't a legilimens…

xxxxx

Merlin.

I always thought that Dumbledore kept Hagrid around out of the kindness of his heart, but now I see that it was out of necessity. No normally-sized person can cart around these monstrous loads of seeds and manure.

I paused, huffing and wiping some sweat from my forehead.

Oh, bad idea. I think I just smeared unicorn poop on my face.

Yes, I said unicorn poop. Hagrid swears by it. Apparently it's the best fertilizer there is because unicorns are pure or they eat butterflies and poop rainbows or some other codswap. Ridiculous, honestly.

And to top it all off, I heard a low chuckle coming from behind me.

"You could just charm it feather-light, you know."

I groaned. Why didn't I think of that?

Harry's arms enveloped me from behind and he kissed my cheek. "How long have you been at this?"

"All morning!" I moaned.

"Sweetheart, it's already three in the afternoon."

I groaned. "Just what I needed to hear. Now I know why Dad was trying to get me to eat so much breakfast this morning."

He chuckled again and produced a sandwich from somewhere. "I figured you might say that. So I brought you this. Erm," he said, looking at it in consternation and blushing slightly, "It didn't look squashed like that when the house-elf wrapped it up for me, sorry."

"That's alright," I told him, kissing him lightly and taking the sandwich. "Honestly, right now if you produced a dead acromantula I might consider eating it."

Harry shuddered slightly. "First you would have to keep it from eating you."

I shook my head, taking a bite. "Nope. _Dead_ acromantula, remember?"

"Mmm, good point. Still wouldn't snog you if you actually ate one, though."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Yeah, I love you too."

He laughed outright that time.

"So what did you come down here for?" I asked, wriggling out of his arms and plopping down on the grass. He sat next to me and tucked a lock of hair back into my braid. "It wasn't just to make fun of me, was it?'

He smiled. "No, I came to tell you the news."

I cocked a brow at him.

"McGonagall said that I could join the auror program this fall! Apparently Kingsley decided that Ron, Hermione and I had more than enough practical experience to start, we don't have to finish our last year of Hogwarts."

"Wow, Harry, that's great," I told him as I munched on my sandwich.

"Yeah, it's brilliant! I don't think Hermione wants to go—wants to finish Hogwarts, you know how Hermione is—but I think Ron might come with me! Just think, we could go through training together, then be partners on the job!"

His grin was infectious, but he still got me thinking.

He could have come back to Hogwarts and spent the year with me.

I shook myself internally. Harry was a grown man, and grown men do not miss out on opportunities simply for the sake of being able to snog their girlfriends. And I shouldn't ask that of him.

So I smiled and hugged him, and told him how brilliant it was that I wouldn't be able to see him for a year.

xxxxx

I was sitting with Ron in the Great Hall.

Alone.

That was a rare treat in the past few years. We used to spend all of our time alone together, but ever since he started Hogwarts he had other friends to occupy his time. Not that I hold it against him, he did lots of important things and helped countless people. I just miss him sometimes, that's all.

"So," I said, watching him ladle his first helping of potatoes onto his plate, "I heard from Harry that you get to chose between your seventh year and the auror program."

"Mmm," he nodded. He swallowed his bite of potato before saying, "You heard right."

Then he promptly shoveled in another scoop of potato.

"Why do you sound so unhappy about it?"

His shoulders sagged. "I dunno, Gin, why do you always know how to ask the wrong questions?"

I fought the smile that wanted to break onto my face. "You're my brother."

"Well, I suppose I'll forgive you the shortcoming, then," he joked. Then his face slowly became more serious. "It would be easy if they were going to decide the same thing," he confessed. "But they're not, I know they're not. Harry wants to go to the academy, and Hermione will want to stay here."

"So?"

"So who am I supposed to follow?" He blurted, then shoved more food into his mouth to cover his mistake.

I sighed. "Ron, don't follow anyone. What do _you_ want to do?"

"Well, if I stay here, then I'll get to see you and Hermione all the time, maybe take her on a proper trip to Hogsmeade, but if I go to the academy I'll get to train with Har—"

"Ron, what do _you_ want to do?"

He stared determinedly down at his plate. Apparently, his potatoes were fascinating.

"I don't want to lose my friends," he mumbled, so low that I might not have heard it. But I did, because I knew that was the only volume at which my brother admitted fears. Can't blame him, really. No Weasley is comfortable admitting to their fears, myself included.

I sighed and took a bite of my own potatoes.

After a while I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"You should try the ham," I suggested. "The honey glaze is good."

xxxxx

"I just don't know what to say to some of these parents, Arthur, they really are distraught—and who can blame them? If I were a muggle and my child came home such a mess from boarding school I certainly wouldn't want to send them back! I've tried talking to them on the mother to mother level, I really have, but honestly, no one could help but break down when you see the looks in those children's eyes—Ginny! Harry! Come and sit, darlings."

I heard the portrait hole swing shut with a mundane finality as I started cautiously toward Mum and Dad. From what we just heard, this is going to be a weepy conversation.

On the bright side, they got the best couch by the fire, so maybe I can just doze off a bit.

"Hi, Mrs, Weasley," Harry called with a smile. "Mr. Weasley."

Dad nodded in acknowledgement as we sat down.

"So, darling," Mum said, switching gears at the speed of light and suddenly putting a smile on her face. I always get confused when she does that. "What would you like to do for your birthday?"

"Oh, er…" Harry said, looking down quickly, "well, I hadn't really thought about it. It's alright, Mrs. Weasley, everyone's busy—"

"Nonsense!" Mum declared, "Everyone can make time. And I'm sure they will be happy to celebrate with you…Merlin knows we need a good celebration," she muttered. I don't think she fully intended for Harry to hear that last part, but he heard it, all the same.

"Erm, well, maybe just dinner together, I don't want to be a bother to anyone."

I squeezed his hand gently. I've already got his birthday present all picked out.

"Well, alright, dear, if you're sure. Dinner and a big cake, perhaps, that would be nice."

"That sounds brilliant," Harry smiled, relaxing now that he didn't have to worry about any displays for his birthday. For a long moment, we were all comfortably silent, just sitting in the warm glow of the fire.

"Mrs. Weasley?"

"Yes, dear?"

"What if I went to see those students?"

"Which stude—oh, well, I don't know. Why on earth would you want to do that, you're very busy as it is—"

"I want them all to come back. Every single one of them, and I can visit them personally, if you think that will help."

It was then that I noticed Dad had stolen my idea, and dozed off in his chair.

Maybe I should, too.

"Well, we'll see about that, dear," Mum told him. "I think you've already got enough work to do."

xxxxx

I hope you liked it!


	10. Appy Birdday, 'Arry!

Hello everyone!

Chapter 10 here. I realize that it's been a couple of weeks since Harry's birthday, but at least it's in the general area. And, also, the last section is just a bit M, although I think you might not even get it if you're not old enough, anyway. Final note—we're winding down here; there are only two, maybe three more chapters of this fic.

Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, _SiriusObsession, physics chick, DukeBrymin, isigirl, MEL-ODiE-MEL-ODRAMATiC, _and _xKillthelights_. Thanks, everyone!

Here it is, I hope you enjoy :D

xxxxx

"Mrs. Weasley, it's really okay—"

"Nonsense, dear, everyone is already there."

"But—"

"Shut it, Harry," came Ginny's commanding voice. I sighed. I know she's been a bigger part of this than she's let on, and I know that there's no sense in arguing with her.

"Gin—"

"I said, shut it."

I sighed again and turned back toward the fire. Everyone else had already disappeared into it, only Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and I were left.

"Go on, dear," Mrs. Weasley encouraged, "Ginny and I will be right behind you."

Well, I suppose I might as well, now. I mean, they've already gotten everything set up. I took a pinch of powder and tossed it into the flames, then stepped in when they blazed green.

"The Burrow!"

I closed my eyes to guard against the sickening dizziness, and a moment later I felt myself fall onto a wooden floor.

I groaned and picked myself up. Thank Merlin they weren't waiting for me, because that wasn't exactly the best entrance. It occurred to me that I should probably move out of the way while I was dusting myself off, and just in time, too. Ginny stepped out of the fireplace barely a second later.

She gave me a smile. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" She didn't give me the chance to object before she waved a wrapped parcel in front of me. "This is for you, but not until later. It's…erm…well, it's not for my brothers or Dad to see, let's leave it at that."

I had a moment to be curious about her blush before she ran off upstairs with it, and Mrs. Weasley arrived with the large box she had been carrying. It was still balanced perfectly, and so was she. Well, I suppose growing up as a pureblooded witch has the advantage of traveling properly in the floo.

"All ready, dear? The party should be ready to start the moment we get out into the garden…"

And for once, it was. I was astounded at the fact that the Weasley household was on schedule. I've never seen that before.

Everyone noticed our presence about two seconds after we walked into the garden, and immediately there were shouts of "Happy Birthday, Harry!" from all sides. I grinned. Even though I didn't want them to go to so much trouble, it's still really fantastic that they did.

I went around, greeting everyone with hugs and looking about the garden that had been transformed into a streamer factory. There was red and gold crepe everywhere, festooning trees, bushes, and hanging suspended from the air. There were floating lanterns, not yet lit since it was barely noon, and a large birthday banner that was shimmering over one side of the table. Ron yanked George over to me, and together they ushered me to a seat that was shaped like a lion.

"George's idea," Ron said into my ear as he pushed me into it. "Most animated I've seen him all day, actually."

I gave George the best smile I could, and he made an attempt to smile back.

Then Ginny reappeared and plopped down on my other side. "Is it time to eat, yet?"

"I dunno," I told her honestly. "I think people are still realizing that I'm here."

And honestly, I think they were. The garden was full of visitors, not just the Weasley clan. Bill and Fleur had brought Victoire, still only about two months old and quite possibly the smallest thing I have ever seen. Andromeda was watching over little Teddy, just barely standing on his own as he peered curiously into Victoire's baby seat. McGonagall was there, as were Flitwick and a few of the other teachers. Fortunately, I haven't spotted Slughorn around yet.

Even Hermione's mum and dad had come, although how they managed I've no idea. I thought you had to be magical to get through the floo.

I settled more comfortably into the chair and was content to simply sit there for the rest of the afternoon when a tawny owl swooped into the clearing and dropped an envelope onto my lap. Not recognizing the neat scrawl on the outside, I slit it open and pulled out the contents.

A birthday day card?

I quickly ran through a list of all the people I knew who weren't in the garden at that very moment. I have to admit, I can't think of any who would send me a birthday card.

Thankfully, most of the guests were busy cooing over Victoire, but Ginny, Hermione, and Ron were watching curiously as I opened the card with my wand at the ready. And then my eyes nearly fell out of my head when I saw the signature.

_Dudley_? Dudley Dursley had sent me a birthday card?

And how in Merlin's name did it get here by _owl_?

I read through it quickly and realized that it was, in fact, a birthday card.

Ginny picked up the card and read it aloud.

"To Harry, I hope you have a pleasant birthday." She snorted and turned the card over, looking for more. "Is that all?"

"I reckon so, mate," Ron said, clapping me on the back as he took the card from Ginny and looked it over myself.

"Well, that was friendly," I finally managed, rescuing the card from Hermione's scrutiny.

"Friendly?" Ginny said derisively, "The only way it could have been any less friendly was if he sent a package of bubotuber pus with it."

"Calm down, Ginny," Hermione told her, "it was friendly enough. And at least he thought of your birthday."

"Erm, yeah," I said, still looking at the card and wondering if it was a figment of my imagination. But no, everyone else touched it and Ginny read it herself.

So I put it carefully back into the envelope and banished it to my cot in Ron's room, where it would be safe from everyone's prying eyes.

xxxxx

"Kingsley!" Dad called, clapping him on the shoulder as he led him to the table. "Just in time! Just in time, Molly's about to come out with the cake—ah! There she is, take a seat…"

"Thank you, Arthur," Kingsley said in his booming baritone as he took the proffered seat. I watched him sweep his robes into the chair before turning my attention back to Mum, who by this point was doubtless thinking of a million nasty chores for me to do tomorrow because I haven't really been helping out today.

Oh wait, we're going back to Hogwarts tomorrow—haha! No chores for me!

But anyways, Mum was levitating the cake we had spent all morning making before we left Hogwarts. We even got a handful of house-elves helping us with it because it was so colossal.

It was a giant cake of Hogwarts, made to fill nearly half the small garden table with its turrets and towers. Mum and I had worked all morning with the elves to bake the layers and then glue them together with treacle frosting, not to mention the detail work that we had to do on the outside of the castle. We actually made imprints of bricks all over the grey frosting, as well as shingles on the slanted roofs of the turrets and blue frosted windows. It all had to be done by hand, of course, as it was food. Only the figurines playing quidditch were magic, charmed to fly around the cake shouting 'Happy Birthday, Harry' in minuscule voices.

But Harry's face was worth all the trouble.

He just stared at the cake as everyone sang happy birthday, grinning like a gobsmacked loon. I smiled and threw my arm around him as we all kept singing.

Thankfully, Dad snapped off a few photos of the cake before anyone was allowed to dig into it—because I certainly wanted proof of how much work I had put into it—and then everyone was eating the most delectable birthday cake ever. I challenge anyone in the world to come up with a more delicious cake than one that came from a combined effort between Hogwarts house-elves and my Mum.

"Ooh!" Little Teddy exclaimed in delight, bouncing on Harry's lap and trying to catch the flying figurines. So far he had only managed to swat at them and smack Harry across the face, covering him in frosting.

I giggled at Harry's confused expression.

But he managed to pull it together and help Teddy catch one, at which point the little boy started giggling uncontrollably as the figure tried to fly out of his tiny hands. He kept a vice-grip on it as he brought it to his ear, listened intently for a moment, then turned to Harry.

"It say, appy bird-day uncle arry!" He squealed excitedly, clapping and forgetting that the figure was trying to escape. It did, zooming away to circle the cake, and Teddy began to pout. Harry laughed and caught him another one.

"Everyone," Kingsley said to the crowd that was happily munching on cake, "Arthur and I have an announcement to make."

My head snapped around toward them and I caught a glimpse of Mum beaming with delight. Only little Teddy and Victoire were still cooing through the quiet that had settled over the party.

Dad cleared his throat. "Well, in light of recent developments and such, we have been discussing wizard-muggle relations. And it has been decided that we must do more to improve the Ministry relations with the Muggle Ministry, so I have been promoted to the Head of the Muggle-Relations Department."

Everyone clapped, although Mum clapped the hardest, and there were cheers of "Congratulations, Arthur!" on all sides of the garden.

After a few minutes it became clear that Kingsley was not done, and so another amiable silence settled over the garden in anticipation.

He folded his hands over his chest, prayer-like, before spreading them wide and beginning.

"Everyone here tonight knows Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger on a personal level, meaning that we all understand how difficult it was for them to accomplish what they have. Defeating Voldemort was not only a difficult task, it was nearly impossible. They are not deities—they are our children, and they are our heroes. I realize that this is somewhat redundant and unnecessary, seeing as the three of you were never in it for glory, but I have come tonight to offer you the Order of Merlin, First Class."

Ron gaped, open-mouthed, looking as though he was utterly gobsmacked.

Hermione was beaming as though she had just received an O on a particularly difficult essay.

Harry was simply staring at Kingsley as though he was seeing someone else entirely.

Dead silence reigned in the garden for a few moments as everyone stared at Harry, Hermione, and Ron, and the three of them stared back at Kingsley.

Then Bill let out a mighty whoop, and cheers suddenly burst across the table. I kissed Harry's cheek and threw my arms around him and little Teddy, who was still sitting contentedly on Harry's lap.

xxxxx

There were backslaps and hugs all around the fireplace as people were preparing to leave. Night had fallen hours ago, and, personally, I was about ready to get back to my bed at the top of Gryffindor Tower and sleep until morning.

Although it would be nice if that bed wasn't _all_ the way at the top of Gryffindor Tower.

It would also have been nice if the Hogwarts had adopted the muggle invention of elevators.

I mean, the Ministry has them, why not Hogwarts?

But I kept smiling and saying goodbyes as the guests disappeared, one by one, into the fireplace. Then the Weasleys began to trickle out themselves.

After a few more moments, it was just Ginny and I left in the sitting room, standing by the fire.

"Ladies first?" I asked, gesturing toward the fire.

She shook her head. "I have something for you."

I raised a brow.

"I never gave you your present, remember?"

"Oh, right," I mumbled, running a hand through my hair nervously. "You really didn't have to get me anything, Gin, it was amazing enough to have everyone here—I mean, I didn't even think I would be celebrating—"

"Harry, you really need to learn when to shut it."

I promptly did.

She smiled in approval. "Sit down and I'll be right back. Actually," she decided, cocking her head to the left and thinking about something, "Come upstairs with me."

"Erm, alright?" I mumbled as she grabbed my hand and led me up to her room. In my somewhat exhausted state, it took me a moment to remember the parcel she had been carrying earlier, and then to realize that she must have taken it to her room when she had run off with it.

I stumbled into her room behind her, partially because of her momentum and partially because she had just thrown off my balance by letting go of my hand. Then she pushed me onto her bed.

I sat and stared up at her, expecting her to join me. Instead she just looked at the parcel that was next to me on the bed. She seemed to be deliberating something.

Reaching for the parcel, after all it was my birthday present, I pulled it into my lap and looked up at her. "Am I allowed to open it?"

She bit her lip, still thinking.

"Yes, I suppose."

Erm, alright, not entirely sure what to make of that enthusiastic response.

I quickly yanked away the wrapping and examined the box before pulling off the lid.

Holy Merlin.

_Holy Merlin_.

"Holy Merlin, Gin," I finally managed to say out loud, not even daring to touch it.

She grinned. "Does that mean you like it?"

"I…erm, well…I mean…Gin, I've never—"

"That makes two of us," she said, not embarrassed at all. I wondered what had gotten into her head. "Shall I try it on?"

I gaped at her.

She laughed. "I'll take that as a 'yes,' Harry Potter."

Grabbing the box from me, and giving me a quick kiss while she was near enough, she walked out of the room.

Or maybe strutted would be a better word.

Oh Merlin. I'm about to see her in that.

And, quite possibly, out of it.

_Oh Merlin!_

I concentrated on breathing, as it suddenly seemed to be something that I had to think about. I still hadn't managed to calm down when she had come back into the room, and looking at her certainly wasn't helping.

I mean, _lingerie_!

_Red_ lingerie that set off her fiery hair and made her skin look milky white—oh, she's coming closer.

She smiled and sat in my lap. "Happy birthday, Harry."

I was suddenly aware that my previous exhaustion had entirely disappeared.

xxxxx

I hope you liked it!


	11. Uncomfortable Inevitabilities

Hello everyone :)

Chapter 11 here. I know that I said there would be no updates until after this week, but I had a change of plans which left me time to finish this chapter. So I hope I haven't disappointed you :P

Thank you to all of my fantastic reviewers, _Book-Mania-Girl520, DanielWhite, DukeBrymin, isigirl, mina14, xKillthelights, meghan0095, littlemiss185, and SiriusObession_. Thank you!

I hope you enjoy it!

xxxx

William Smethy.

William.

Smethy.

Or maybe Billy, or Liam.

I probably should have asked someone. McGonagall would have known.

Although she probably just called him Smethy—but still, she would have known what his classmates called him.

I sighed to myself and forced myself to stare at the glum green door. I really should have asked someone.

I took a few deep breaths, then rang the doorbell.

Or, at least, I was about to ring the bell. But the second before I did a jet of blue light shot in my direction and I had to duck, hitting myself in the head against who-knows-what and a bucket of green goop had suddenly cracked open on my head.

I had my wand at the ready, looking about for the cause of my sudden attack, when I noticed a small boy whip a curtain closed.

The window, though, was still open.

I groaned.

I actually just got pranked by a ten-year-old.

I quickly cleaned myself up and rang the doorbell, suddenly realizing that the little boy might have been this Smethy character. I heard a "No, Mum, wait!" before the door opened and a lovely woman smiled at up at me.

"Hello? Can I help you, young ma—Liam! You don't shove your Mother—"

"Alright, bloke," the little boy said, standing in front of his mum with his wand out and trained on me. "You just turn around and go so that I don't have to—" he trailed off as he saw my scar. "Blimey! Erm, I mean, I apologize, Mr. Potter, sir…"

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at that. It's quite interesting to be called 'Mr. Potter' or 'sir' to be honest. Actually, it's downright odd.

"It's alright, Liam," I said, trying to remember what his mum had called him. "Is it alright if I come in?"

He could only nod mutely as his mother, who had shot him a look that clearly meant he was in trouble, invited me in graciously.

"Harry Potter, then?" She asked as she led me down a hall to a spacious sitting room. "Liam has told us all about the stories, of course. And the other woman already came to try to get him to go back. He's just convinced that he has to stay here." She shook her head and motioned for me to sit. "I'll just go get you a cup of tea."

"Oh! Erm, thank you, but I'm really alright. I just wanted to speak to you and Liam, if that's alright."

"Of course, dear," she said, sitting opposite me. I realized that she had never actually told me her name. Well, I suppose I can just call her Mrs. Smethy.

"The other woman—Molly, I believe—told us that it was over, that you won. I'm so glad. I have no idea how I would have protected Liam. A mother's instinct, you know, even when there's nothing that the mother can do."

I nodded, not really knowing how to start. Merlin, and I rehearsed it a million times in my head, too.

"She tried to convince him that it was best if he went back, but bless his little heart, he's convinced that he needs to stay here and protect his father and I from the 'bad blokes,' as he calls them." Mrs. Smethy shook her head, looking toward the door through which Liam had disappeared. "He was put into Gryffindor, you know. He was very proud of that. He liked to be called brave."

I smiled.

Now at least I have an angle to work from.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Probably up in his room. I'll go get him for you."

"Actually, could I go up and talk to him myself?"

She looked at me for a moment before acquiescing. "Of course, dear. Follow me."

She led me upstairs to a small room, then rapped on the door gently before opening it and nodding me inside. I thanked her with a nod and went into the room. I heard the door shut softly behind me.

There was silence for a moment.

"You want me to go back," Liam accused, not looking at me. He was concentrating very hard on bouncing a small ball against his bedroom wall.

"I do."

"I can't. Mum and Dad don't have magic."

"Muggleborns have every right to learn magic, Liam. Hogwarts wants you to come back to school and learn more. Don't you want to see your friends?"

The dull thuds of rubber on the wall were beginning to get louder. I could sense his frustration suddenly grow.

"That's not what I mean."

Thud. Thwap! Thud.

"I understand that you didn't like Hogwarts, Liam, but that's not what it's really like. Now that McGonagall's in charge things will be like they used to be at Hogwarts—cheerful and innocent."

His eyes very suddenly locked onto mine and I realized that this boy, in one measly year, had forgotten all about the word 'innocent.'

I hope the Carrows are sentenced to life in Azkaban. I don't want them to be spared the suffering with an outright execution.

"I mean, you'll see how it is, Liam. It's all about learning magic with your friends and going to Hogsmeade for Honeydukes chocolate and butterbeer—"

"You don't get it!"

Well, at least now we're getting somewhere.

I waited patiently for him to continue.

When he didn't I prodded him. "Can you tell me?"

He threw the ball against the wall and let it bounce across the room, landing Merlin-knows-where. My eyes were trained on him as he finally turned his entire body to face me.

"Mum and Dad don't have magic. I can't leave them."

Comprehension suddenly dawned, and I wondered why I had been so thick to begin with. Liam was a Gryffindor.

I smiled. "Did you know, Liam, that I've always been proud to be a Gryffindor?"

He nodded.

"I always thought it was because my mum and dad were both in Gryffindor, and I suppose that's part of it—but do you know why I loved living in Gryffindor Tower?"

He shook his head again, and I could tell he was holding back a few sniffles and tears.

"It was because Gryffindors are like you. They're brave, even when they're not strong enough. But Liam, I want you to go back to Hogwarts, and I want you to learn more spells, so that you can really protect your mum and dad. Alright?"

"I can't leave them for two whole years," he objected, frowning. "That's what they said in the letter, that we would have to go for two years straight to make up for what we didn't learn last year."

"Don't worry, the Ministry has a group of Aurors checking on the families of muggle-born students. Your mum and dad will be fine."

"Are you sure?" He sniffled. I summoned the tissue box for him.

"Yes. Most of the Death Eaters have already been caught, as well."

His face brightened considerably. "_Really_?"

I grinned. I was pretty happy about those articles as well. I had been counting them as they appeared in The Prophet all summer. "Really. Now get started on packing your trunk."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Harry Potter!" Liam said enthusiastically, suddenly eager for the most mundane of activities.

I grinned.

At least that was one goal accomplished.

xxxxx

"Ronald Weasley! Get down here this instant or we're leaving without you!"

He groaned loudly.

"Oh, hush, Ron," Hermione reprimanded as she straightened his tie. "You should have been down there ages ago, not dragging Ginny and me back up here to help you look decent—"

Ron couldn't even be bothered with a proper reply. He just groaned loudly again.

Hermione gave him a withering look.

I sat on my bed and managed to keep myself from giggling. They were just too funny.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

We all jumped at the sound of Mum's shrill voice, suddenly amplified to fill the house, and turned fearfully to the door just as Harry poked his head in.

"Erm, Ron? I think now would be a good time to get down there, mate."

"Right," Ron mumbled as Hermione straightened him up one more time. Then he grabbed her hand and headed down the stairs. Harry smiled at me, offering me his hand. I took it and we had just reached the bottom when—

"GINEVRA! Where ARE you?"

You know, sometimes I think Ron has the right idea with not answering. I certainly don't want to encourage Mum's behavior.

Instead I just pulled Harry into the tiny parlour where everyone else was gathered.

"_Finally_!" Mum said, exasperated. "Now, everyone go get into the car…"

"Remind me again why we had to drive?" Harry asked me under his breath as we moved out of Mum's hearing range.

I rolled my eyes. "Because you can't stand up in the Floo and Ron might splinch himself from excitement if we apparate."

"Ah," he said, coloring slightly. "Sorry."

I rolled my eyes again. "You should be sorry for that tie you're wearing."

He tinged a brighter pink. "Is it really that bad?"

In all honesty, it wasn't. It's just green, that's all.

"_Green_?" I asked acidly, "Couldn't you have picked a nice burgundy?"

"What's wrong with green? Your Mum said it matched my eyes!"

I couldn't help cracking a smile at that. It did match his eyes rather nicely, come to think of it…

"It's a Slytherin color."

"Erm, well, yes, that was kind of the point."

I turned on him as we piled into the car. "_That was_ _kind of the point_?"

He blushed again. "Yeah, well, we've had a bloody war, and I thought, let's try to put it all behind us, you know? Promote unity so that this nonsense doesn't happen again."

I snorted. "Has Hermione got you handing out buttons for SPEW as well?"

"I am perfectly capable of coming up with my own intelligent ideas," Harry said, somewhat insulted. "And if you don't hush, she's going to bug you to help with SPEW. She's sitting right next to you and Ron can only keep her distracted for so long."

I turned to see exactly how Ron was keeping her distracted.

Big mistake.

"Ronald Weasley!" Mum yelled from the front, suddenly catching sight of the two of them as well. "Stop mauling that poor, innocent girl! The point of the car was that you would not muss your nice clothes!"

The two of them immediately sprang apart and their cheeks colored red.

Suddenly it occurred to me that Ron and Hermione had gone off and fought a war—were about to receive the First Order of Merlin for their efforts—but Mum still treated them like small children.

I wonder if that will _ever_ change.

xxxxx

The Atrium was bursting with people who were trying to get further into the Ministry, many of them dressed in their best Sunday clothes and asking for directions to the reception hall.

And I would have been fine with that, if only _we_ weren't headed for the reception hall as well.

Fortunately, or maybe just because Hermione and Mr. Weasley put together means a fantastic amount of foresight, no one recognized us because of an Illusion Charm. At the moment, we looked like a dark-haired family that Mr. Weasley saw in London a few days ago.

Sidling through people, we finally made it to the reception hall and were greeted by Kingsley's personal assistant, Cecilia.

She smiled prettily at us, having already been given a picture of our disguise. She double-checked it surreptitiously before giving us another wide smile.

"Right this way, please," she said graciously, turning and leading us down an aisle. "On behalf of Minister Shacklebolt, I welcome you. As his personal guests, you will be seated at the front of the hall…"

I tuned her out and concentrated on searching the hall for any more familiar faces. George and Percy were already seated in our row, not talking animatedly, but this is still the least glum I've seen George since the beginning of the summer.

Bill was in the next row with Fleur, who was rocking Victoire gently and attempting to stuff a bottle into the baby's mouth. Victoire seemed to be actively protesting.

Andromeda and Teddy were seated a few rows back. I would have gone to give my godson a hug but we can't let the illusion go yet. Teddy might mistake me for some random dark-haired bloke and start screaming.

Oh wait…I already have dark hair, don't I? Well, you got the idea, anyway.

Just as we were settling into our seats, Cecilia looked at Mr. Weasley, then down at her watch. "Three…two…and, go ahead, sir."

Suddenly there were a bunch of gingers sitting in the front row and the lights dimmed as Kingsley walked onto the stage. His arrival was quickly met with loud applause.

Kingsley walked to the lectern before inclining his head in polite acknowledgement of the applause. Then he raised his wand, signaling silence to the crowd, and pointed it at his throat. A moment later his voice boomed through the hall.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am most pleased that you were able to join us this morning as we honor those who have fought for our freedom.

"Voldemort, the man who was once known as Tom Riddle, was a man who believed that his human nature left him powerless, and so he cast it aside. But here before us, we have individuals who prove to us that our human nature makes us strong. I hope you will join me in honoring their courage and sacrifice in this struggle for our freedom."

Raucous applause followed that statement for several long moments before Kingsley raised his wand again, signaling that he had more to say.

"First, we honor a family who has given more to this cause than any other." He looked down at the front row, his gaze stopping momentarily at George's face. "The Weasley family—" he was forced to break off as loud cheers erupted suddenly. After giving them a moment, they quieted on their own and he was able to continue. "The Weasley family has been at the forefront of this war, even before the Ministry itself was willing to acknowledge it. They protected Harry Potter—and by extension the entire wizarding community—when the government itself was not willing to do so. They have given much to this fight. For this, I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, with the power invested in me by the position of the Minister of Magic, do award the Order of Merlin, Third Class, to Arthur, Molly, Bill, George, and Ginevra Weasley."

There was more raucous applause as they went up to accept their awards. But no one clapped harder than the person who wolf-whistled from a few seats down.

That's right, _Percy Weasley_ wolf-whistled at a Ministry function.

Ron, Hermione and I all looked at each other before Ron shrugged, and whistled himself.

I wrapped my arm around Ginny when she took her seat again, squeezing her in a one-armed hug. She grinned up at me, but there was something sad behind her eyes. I recognized it, but soon she'll have something to smile about. They just don't know it yet.

I sat back and waited for the applause to die down again. When it did, Kingsley began.

"I would also like to award the Order of Merlin, Third Class, to another Weasley." I heard Ginny gasp in shock and Mrs. Weasley begin to sob as they realized what was happening. George simply looked gobsmacked.

"This young man contributed much to the war effort, and in the end he gave his life for it. With the power invested in me by the position of the Minister of Magic, I Kingsley Shacklebolt, do award the Order of Merlin, Third Class, to Fred Weasley."

The utter silence was broken by the loud sobs of Mrs. Weasley, and soon the entire hall was cheering again. I saw George nudge Percy, who hesitantly stood and accepted Fred's award. When he sat again, I could see that he was shaking.

Kingsley raised his wand, asking for silence again. The audience complied, and anyone could sense the anticipation in the hall. Acid churned in my gut and Ginny squeezed my hand.

"Everyone in the wizarding world knows what they owe to Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived—" He had to wait for a few hoots and cheers to die down before he could continue. I tried not to flush or sink into my seat. "And everyone knows how much they owe to his friends, his most loyal and devoted supporters, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger." There was another set of cheers, and I joined in this time, quite enthusiastically. Ron turned the color of his hair. "Rarely have so many owed so much to so few. For their unparalleled bravery and devotion, I award to them—Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger—the Order of Merlin, First Class."

The din was deafening. You would think we were at a rock concert instead of a government building.

When we sat back down with our awards, I understood why Percy had been shaking—I can actually feel Mum and Dad right now.

I didn't hear much of the concluding remarks. I just sat there and looked at my hands, marveling at the fact that my entire life was summed up in a wooden plaque.

And I found, once again, that I really didn't want it.

xxxx

I hope you liked it! Please review :D


	12. Equation Solved

Hello everyone!

Chapter 12 here! Last chapter! Woooo-whoooo! I'm so sorry that this took such a long time to pound out. It was actually really difficult to put a decent end to this story. I hope you all like it.

Also, if I get at least fifteen reviews on this chapter, I will consider writing an epilogue; however, you have to give me a couple of ideas about what the epilogue should be about.

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, _littlemiss185, SiriusObession, DukeBrymin, DanielWhite, isigirl, Book-Mania-Girl520, _and _Sigy Artin_. Thanks, guys!

Here it is, the last chapter of this story. I hope you enjoy it.

xxxxx

Hermione was not pleased.

That much was clear.

And though she no longer looked livid, I knew that she wasn't done yet.

"You have to come back to Hogwarts! Or at least the Auror Academy!"

Ron managed to stop cowering long to enough to refuse, once again. Ginny and I merely looked on, enjoying the spectacle.

"Yes, you must!"

He shook his head.

Hermione made a noise somewhere between a strangled scream and a drowning cat.

"Erm, Hermione?"

We all turned in surprise. The shock of the voice was enough to get Hermione to drop her anger and turn toward him.

"Ron will be running the shop, with me. We thought we would reopen it, you know, as a way to keep Fred's memory alive and well."

We all just stared at George. Personally, I haven't heard him speak in weeks.

"Wherever a bloke is getting pranked, Fred is there," Ron piped up, nodding.

I watched Hermione very carefully. I'm not stupid, after all. Seven years with these two has taught me which one I need to keep an eye on.

She backed slowly away from Ron's armchair and her knees bumped into the low table in front of the fire. She sank down onto it just as George decided to collapse onto the couch.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, unsure of her silence.

"You wanker!" She yelled suddenly, "How am I supposed to argue about it now?"

I stifled a laugh and could almost feel Ginny roll her eyes beside me. Hermione might still have her wand in a knot, but she won't do anything about it now.

The worst was over, and I'm sure poor Ron was grateful for it.

xxxxx

I sighed and cuddled up closer to Harry. This day was incredibly long, and, personally, I was ready to for-go tomorrow's opening ceremony in favor of sleep.

Harry's arms tightened around me. "You already tired?" He asked, though I could tell he was stifling a yawn himself.

"Mmm," I murmured, electing not to point out how tired _he_ was. I could feel that he was exhausted—emotionally, not just physically. Talking to all those muggle-borns had been truly draining. Instead I just hugged him tighter. "I wish we didn't have to go to the ceremony tomorrow. And there's no suspense since we already know what the monument looks like."

For a moment I thought he might be nodding off, but he was simply agreeing with me. "Yeah, thank Merlin for Luna. Who knew that she was such a good painter?"

"Everyone who didn't think she was crazy."

"Ah, right." He was silent for a moment, just pulling his finger through my hair. It felt lovely, actually. I hope he starts doing that more often.

"So you'll be in your seventh year."

"For two years straight. Not looking forward to that."

"How am I going to see you?" He asked, shifting slightly so that he had a better view of my face. "I don't think I can make it on Hogsmeade visits for two years, Gin."

"Not even if I promise to buy you treacle tart?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. He wasn't having it.

"Gin, I'm serious. I..." he trailed off, searching my face for something. I wish I knew what it was.

"I spent a year without you. And it was horrible, Gin."

"Harry, that was different. There's nothing to worry about now, it's just Hogwarts and the Auror Academy—"

"I know, Gin, but what I'm trying to say is…is…I'm not ready to say good-bye yet."

I didn't really know what to say to that. I hugged him a bit tighter.

"Me either."

I felt his chest rise as he sighed again. I didn't look up until I felt him skip a breath in excitement.

"I have an idea."

"What's that?" I asked, raising a brow at him.

"How opposed are you to sneaking out of the castle?"

"Right now?" This is so confusing.

"No, just…your general feelings toward it, I suppose."

"Not very opposed to it, really."

"Excellent! Come with me."

And with that, he dragged me up to his old dorm and began looking about for something. Then, suddenly, he grabbed an old robe from the floor and turned to me.

"Would you rather have the map or the cloak to sneak out with?" He asked, excited.

"Erm, what?"

"Oh, right, sorry. So, I showed you the Marauders' Map, remember?"

I nodded, remembering the odd parchment. It's hard to forget something that can track your every move.

"And I also have this cloak that you can use. So which would you rather use? Nothing can see through the cloak—but we weren't completely sure about Mrs. Norris—and the map will show you all the secret passageways out and who's coming, so you'll never get caught unaware…so, which one? Or both, I suppose, if you like."

I just stared at him. "Erm, why would I need to sneak out of Hogwarts?"

"Because I can't sneak in," he explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. I didn't point out that he had already accomplished the feat of sneaking into Hogwarts. "You can sneak out every Saturday so that we can see each other!"

I couldn't help laughing at that. Not that it was a funny idea, no, not at all. It was just the fact that I was expecting some grandiose plan because this is _Harry Potter_, and he's escaped Gringotts on the back of a dragon, instead all I get is a request to sneak out to Hogsmeade every weekend using an old piece of parchment.

"Where did you even get an invisibility cloak?"

"Well, erm, my dad left it for me."

I was curious about his expression, but I let the subject slide. He obviously doesn't want to talk about it right now. And I'm not going to take something that his dad left for him.

"I'll take the map," I decided. That makes the most sense, really. "After all, you won't be in Hogwarts to use it, but you'll need that cloak at the Academy."

He grinned. "Alright, now let me show you the secret passages out of the castle."

xxxx

"Mr. Potter!"

I turned, half expecting to be berated for forgetting to turn in my transfiguration essay.

"Mr. Potter! I need you back here, with the rest of the beneficiaries."

I sighed. Ginny squeezed my hand before I went off in McGonagall's direction.

"Good, good," she was saying in response to something that a portly man was telling her. Something new made her frown. "Well, I hadn't expected that they would boycott the entire ceremony…well, really! They can't expect that I would allow them to donate to the rebuilding efforts—they caused some of the destruction!"

"Yes, but Minerva—"

"Headmistress McGonagall, Sturgis, and I am in charge of the goings-on at this school."

"Declining the Malfoys the chance to be contributors to the rebuilding fund may not have been the wisest course of action."

"You may prove to be correct, Sturgis, but we cannot say. And given their family history I will not allow them the advantage of a monetary say in Hogwarts. Why, until Dumbledore took office they had been commanding Dippett's strings—Harry! Wonderful, come sit, please."

And, although I had been very interested in the conversation, she abruptly ended it and brought me up to a raised platform out on the Quidditch field.

"Representatives of all the families that have donated to the rebuilding effort shall sit on the dias, and I will expect, of course that you shall cut the ceremonial ribbon at the Astronomy Tower."

I breathed a sigh of relief and she winked at me.

"Yes, I rather thought that you would prefer the ribbon to a speech. I only ask that you not run off with the scissors after you cut the ribbon—very hard to find, giant-sized scissors. Even Diagon Alley didn't stock them…ah! Sturgis, what is it _now_?"

Within moments, she was off in another direction. I just settled into my seat and watched as the Quidditch field filled with spectators. It had been transformed for the occasion, with rows upon rows of seats filling the grassy pitch. There was even a faux ceiling suspended magically over the seats, to protect from the clouds that threatened on the horizon. It seemed every wizard in Britain was in attendance, especially as school starts tomorrow and families are coming with students to say a goodbye before the extended school year.

I sighed and settled back into my seat. At least I don't have to deal with the Malfoys today. If Merlin understands that he owes me huge, then I shouldn't have to deal with the Malfoys for the rest of my life.

Well, one can only hope.

Although honestly, I think if Merlin had any foresight at all Voldemort never would have existed in the first place.

"Hey."

I looked up with a smile. "Hey. Are you going to be sitting with me?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. I groaned. I was really hoping that she would. I just love having her around, even if I'm not allowed to touch her. "I have to go sit with Mum and Dad. Not special enough to be stared at."

She meant it in jest, so I tried to take it that way.

But being stared at is not fun.

"Are you sure you can't stay, Gin? I'll give you my seat—I can sit on the floor."

She shook her head, smiling. "And have everyone gasp about the girl who stole Harry Potter's seat? I don't think so."

"They already gossip about how you stole my heart," I mumbled glumly, quite put-out that she wouldn't stay with me. I mean, it's not difficult to conjure her another seat. And I should have the right to a plus one, being Harry Potter and all. I mean, really, Brits do not look good in silver and green, for starters.

She sighed just as McGonagall stopped at the foot of the dais. She would be coming up any moment to begin the ceremony.

Ginny quickly pecked my lips. "I'll see you after the ceremony, love."

I gave her a half-hearted smile as she walked away.

I think I'm turning into a love-sick fool.

xxxxx

"Ginny? Ginny? Ginevra?"

Mum was looking about for me, no doubt to clamp onto my hand as though I were a three-year-old. I rolled my eyes and slid further back into the crowd of spectators.

Then I bumped into Dad.

Oops.

But he just shoved his camera into my hands and whispered, "Go."

I gave him a grateful smile before pushing through the crowd in as ladylike a manner as I could, but that didn't seem to be working. And I was not about to miss Harry cutting the ribbon simply because every magical being in England was in my way.

So I started just plain old shoving.

It seemed to get the message across.

Soon, I made it to the front of the crowd and could actually see the ribbon at the foot of the Astronomy Tower. Harry was standing in front of it with the giant-sized scissors in his hand. He was scanning the crowd for someone, but when he spotted me he gave me an uneasy smile.

I tried to smile back as reassuringly as I could. It always amazes me that he is the strongest person I know, yet he still can't stand being the center of attention.

Well, I suppose public speaking is an acquired taste.

But, either way, I was not about to miss my future husband cutting the ribbon on the memorial that we've spent all summer working on. And yes, I have decided that he is going to be my future husband. I said it when I was five, dammit, and I do not go back on my word.

I tried to pay attention to the ceremony when I heard some applause, but it was simply McGonagall going on about the memorial.

Honestly.

There are only so many inspiring speeches that I girl can listen to in one week. I mean, I _lived_ it, I don't need to be given inspiring speeches about it.

After another few rounds of applause, McGonagall's speech seemed to be at an end, and I watched Harry lift the scissors.

I snapped off a shot as he cut the ribbon to raucous applause. I wasn't the only one, either. There were reporters bunched into a special section, snapping photos and jabbering excitedly to their charmed quills.

"Mr. Potter! How does it feel to have defeated the Dark Lord?"

Oh dear, bleach-blonde hair, too-long nails and a skirt that is painfully tight—that woman looks suspiciously like Rita Skeeter's replacement.

"Oh, erm, well…"

"Mr. Potter is not here to give interviews, as you were well informed, Lynessca," McGongall said graciously, although there was still a curt undercurrent to her tone. "However, you should feel free to explore the grounds as they are full of interesting landmarks of the battle."

Lynexia, or whatever her name was, took the hint and receded back into the throng of reporters. But I couldn't help but notice the predatory look on her face when she sized Harry up. My nails dug into my palms in order to keep myself from pulling out my wand.

Just then, Harry waved for me to come forward.

I hesitated for a moment, but he seemed rather adamant about it, which was odd. So I walked up to him and he pulled me into a tight embrace. I was so shocked by the heat in his kiss that I forgot entirely that we were in the middle of a ceremony.

I was quickly reminded, however, when he suddenly pulled away and turned me to face the reporters—who, if they had been excited before, were positively feverish now—and said quite clearly,

"The only story you're getting today is that I am in love with Ginny Weasley."

Holy Merlin.

Two things crossed my mind at that moment.

One—I was blushing furiously. Possibly redder than my own hair, though that was yet to be determined by the photos that were being taken more quickly than a dragon blinks.

Two—I have to check this guy to make sure he's not some impostor on Polyjuice Potion.

xxxxx

"It's beautiful."

"It is."

She sighed next to me. "Do you think they'll understand?"

I hope not.

"No, I don't think they will."

She nodded. "You think that's a good thing."

I wasn't sure how to answer that, exactly. So instead I stared at Luna's mural. It really was beautiful. And utterly surreal. But I would expect nothing less from Luna.

There were witches and wizards, centaurs, goblins, house-elves, and several other creatures that I had never known existed—although McGonagall did verify their existence—adorning the stones. And words, nearly indiscernible because they seemed part of the painting, in a rather intricate way, told of the morals of the war—the need for unity, and acceptance. The image wound up through the inside of the Astronomy Tower, spiraling with the staircase as it ascended to an indistinguishable height. I'm surprised that Luna managed to finish such a large painting so quickly, actually. I never knew that she was such a practiced artist.

I sighed again. "I think that is a good thing."

I knew she nodded, though I wasn't looking at her. I was still looking at the painting, now that I had an unimpeded view. The throngs of spectators had finally gone, the students up to their beds, the parents to spare classrooms that had been transformed for the purposes of these two days. Most of the parents, in fact, would be staying for the Opening Feast tomorrow evening.

"I overheard Kingsley this morning, talking about how the new minister wants to take a look at werewolf rights."

"That's a step in the right direction."

Too bad Remus wasn't here to see it.

"Yes, it is."

We were silent for a while longer, just staring at that wall.

When she finally spoke again, something had changed in her voice.

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"So…you're leaving day after next…"

"Yeah," I sighed, not wanting to be reminded. Two more days of Ginny, then off to the Auror Academy.

She grabbed my hand, and I had to run to keep up with her.

"Gin, where are we—"

"Shhh! You'll see when we get there," she reprimanded, though I could tell she wasn't actually upset. She seemed rather mischievous, actually.

I have to admit, I was confused when she only brought me to the Fat Lady.

But then we slipped inside and she pulled me toward the girls' staircase.

"Gin?"

"You're leaving Hogwarts in a couple days," she said again in explanation, "and I've kind of always had this fantasy about the two of us in the girls' dorm…" she trailed off suggestively.

I flushed.

That only made her grin.

"Come on," she said, tugging me toward the stairs.

"How am I even going to get up there?"

She seemed stumped for a moment. Then another mischievous grin spread across her face. "I'm going to levitate you."

Huh.

I wonder why no one's thought of that before.

We finally got to her dorm and she let me down onto the landing, kissing me soundly after she did.

I grinned. I love having a smart girlfriend.

She grinned back, pulling me into the room. The hangings of all the other beds were already shut tight.

Ginny gave me another smile, and we had enough sense to silence the curtains before we tumbled into bed.

xxxxx

The End!

I hope you liked it!

Once again, if I get at least fifteen reviews on this chapter, I will consider writing an epilogue.


	13. Epilogue: Engaging Conversations

Hello Everyone!

Epilogue, here. I hope you enjoy.

Also, big thank-you's to the people who reviewed: _themidnightdriver, Aspieturtle, DanielWhite, Obsessivereader25, Book-Mania-Girl520, digitalmonster911, FutureAuthor-Hopefully, _and _lyaser53_. Also, special thank-you's to _SiriusObession, DukeBrymin,_ and _isigirl_, who have reviewed every chapter. Thanks, guys!

xxxxx

"Harry! Dear what a wonderful surprise!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air in excitement. I was quickly enfolded into a hug and ushered to a seat at the table. "Sit, sit! I'll make you a little breakfast dear, my, you _are_ here early, aren't you…Arthur! Arthur, Harry is here, come read your paper at the table!"

"Now, Harry dear, I expect you'll want three scrambled eggs and bacon, yes? I'll get some toast started, I bought some of that special marmalade that you like from the market just last week, the jar should still be fresh—"

"Morning, Harry," Mr. Weasley interrupted, having just coming in from the sitting room. He plucked the newspaper from the side table before patting me on the back and settling into his chair. "How's the Academy been? Perkins getting ready to advance you like he should?"

I nodded, thanking Mrs. Weasley for the laden plate that suddenly appeared in front of me. "I ran into Kingsley the other day, he said Perkins was getting ready to advance my status to second-year."

"That's excellent, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she put another plate in front of her husband. He looked down at it, slightly disappointed at its lack of contents. "Oh don't give me that look, Arthur, you know that you're supposed to be watching your weight for the sake of your heart. Do you _want_ to give yourself cardiactia?"

"Molly, dear, the doctor said I was on track—"

"On track, not out of the woods, Arthur," she reprimanded, pointing at his plate once again. "Eat. Now, Harry, tell us all about your news."

I suddenly found myself faced with two pairs of curious eyes.

"Erm…well, I've, erm…Perkins is planning to advance me to second-year," I repeated, feeling incredibly slow for doing so. I gulped and put my fork down.

"Yes, I heard from the stove," she said, encouraging me to continue.

I wiped my hands on my pants.

"Well, I, erm…went shopping the other day…"

"Oh really? Diagon Alley?" Mr. Weasley asked, pointing at his newspaper, "Says here they're having a sale at Madam Malkin's—"

"Oh, we should really make a trip, then, you could use a new set of formal robes, Arthur."

"Dear, when do I ever need formal robes?" He sighed, picking up his rather large mug of steaming tea.

I cleared my throat and tried again.

"Well, actually, I didn't go to Diagon Alley. I, erm, found this quaint little shoppe in London, and, erm…well, I bought this," I blurted, pulling out the little satin box and setting it on the table.

They both just looked at it.

Another moment of silence and I thought to actually open the box.

"It's lovely," Mr. Weasley said, Mrs. Weasley nodding along. "Why isn't she wearing it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why isn't she wearing it?" He repeated, looking across the table at me, "I can't imagine that she would be willing to show it to us any other way than on her finger."

"Oh. Erm, well, I haven't actually asked her yet, wanted to do it properly and all…" I trailed off, realizing that I sounded like an utter buffoon. And if Ginny, of all people, found out that I was asking her father for her, she was likely to hex me before saying yes.

They actually laughed. "Harry," Mr. Weasley said, putting down his mug and looking squarely at me, "the ring is lovely. And we'd be happy to make you an official part of the family."

Well, that's a relief.

Two down…five to go.

And then, of course, Ginny.

"—come back at noon so we can make that sale at Madam Malkin's," Mrs. Weasley was saying to poor Mr. Weasley when I tuned back in to the conversation. "No husband of mine will be going to a wedding without nice dress robes…"

xxxxx

Leaning up against the wall, I muttered to the map as quietly as I could. Instantly the lines began to form, and the dots started to appear a moment later. I waited until I could actually read the labels before even breathing—I could swear I heard Filch's bad leg banging on the floor not a second ago…

What was that?

Oh, just a rat.

Oh…I hope Mrs. Norris isn't about to come chasing after it…

See, that's the one thing that this map doesn't do. It will show you every single person in the castle, but animals don't count. Honestly, wasn't Mrs. Norris around when these people made this map? She's about a century old, she might still be on her first life, I mean, really…

But either way, berating people who are usually rather helpful, and, in any case, are likely to be long dead, isn't going to keep me from getting caught. So I glanced down at the now fully-operational map and saw that, thank Merlin, Filch is happily ensconced in his office.

But I get the feeling that Anthony Bundale is not so happy to be in there with him.

Oh well, can't win them all. But thanks, Anthony Bundale, for keeping Filch busy for a few minutes. I should remember to buy him a butterbeer some time, or perhaps a pumpkin pasty on the train ride back home…

Giving the map a second once-over, I decided that my path across the Entrance Hall was clear and made a bee-line for the large doors.

xxxxx

I flopped rather loudly onto the chair.

That was unintentional.

I mean, the loudly part, not the flopping part, that part was entirely intentional, I don't just go flopping about accidentally, even if I had been pacing for the past twenty-eight minutes straight before I had the nerve to floo into the Three Broomsticks.

Well, twenty-eight minutes and forty-five seconds, so I suppose I might round up to twenty-nine minutes, but who's really counting…

Oh bloody hell, what have I gotten myself into?

I pulled it out again.

It was nice.

It was more than nice, really, it was…_Ginny_.

It was unmistakably Ginny.

And that was a good thing.

Unless, of course, she decides she doesn't want it, in which case I'll have absolutely no idea what to do with it…or what to tell her family, all of whom are currently at the Burrow setting up for a party…bloody hell, what _have_ I gotten myself into?

Nearly an eternity later I spotted her red hair at the door and had to wipe my palms on my robes.

I had to do it again before she finally fought through the crowd and reached the small table I had found. I nearly tripped over myself when I tried to stand to pull her into a hug.

"I missed you, beautiful."

Merlin her hair smells so sweet.

Oh, not as sweet as your lips taste, excellent point, Ginny, darling…

When she eased away from me a moment later, I had to rearrange my features into a smile—all too often they slipped into a pout after being separated from Ginny's soft mouth.

"I missed you too, handsome. How has the Academy been?"

I wiped my palms on my robes as discretely as I could. "Good. Hard work, as usual, but Portkins is taking more interest. Kingsley says it won't be long until I'll be promoted to the next year's standing."

"That's great! What is that, five months early?"

"Erm, six," I corrected, counting in my mind. Easter was at the end of March this year, a couple weeks away, so that meant six months.

I swallowed thickly and resisted the itch to touch the box in my pocket.

"That's fantastic! If only I could get out of Hogwarts early," Ginny giggled. "Well, at least I have it easier than the younger ones. All I have to do is finish the summer and then I will be fully up to McGonagall's standards as a seventh year Hogwarts graduate. Those poor kids are going to be here until next June."

She shook her head sadly.

I shrugged. "They're learning everything they missed, and they get to go home on holidays, just not as long as usual."

"That's true," Ginny conceded, "It's just that they're _kids_. I mean, I could never have handled being away from Mum and Dad or the Burrow for such a long time…"

Oh no—she doesn't want to be away from the Burrow for a long time? That doesn't bode well…

"—end of the summer," she was saying, looking at him expectantly.

"Erm…" it's times like this that I wished Lockheart had taught us a charms lesson or two, somehow I think he would have been more suited to that post than Defense against the Dark Arts.

But Ginny just giggled at me.

"You're lucky I'm happy to see you, and am willing to let you think about snogging me rather than paying attention to me. Now, what are you going to feed me?"

"Oh, erm," I said again, this time amazed at my luck, "whatever strikes your fancy, sweetheart."

"Oh?" She teased, pulling the small menu towards herself, "Would you still want to kiss me if I ordered the pickled toad legs?"

"I'd want to kiss you even if you were a Slytherin," I told her, smiling, "but I have to advise against the toad legs—they're highly poisonous and I doubt they're actually on the menu."

Ginny laughed. "How do you know they're poisonous? Fred and George always used to tell me that they tasted delightful. Then they tried to convince me that muggle girls liked to kiss them, which I didn't really believe."

Harry smiled. "Muggle girls kiss frogs, not toads, and they do it sparingly. As for knowing they're poisonous—well, I suppose that's why you need to finish your seventh year."

"Codswap," she declared, "you never even started your seventh year."

"You're forgetting that I went on a year-long camping trip with a human library, who also saw fit to bring a real library with her. Don't tell Ron, but…I was bored."

Ginny laughed again.

Merlin, that's a beautiful sound.

"Alright, your secret is safe with me. I think I'll settle for a butterbeer and some savory cauldron cakes, sweetheart."

"Sounds great," I told her, hopping down from the raised booth and pecking her cheek softly. "I'll be right back."

"Elderberry syrup on the side, please!" She called after my retreating form.

I nearly laughed at the thought that she thought I might forget.

xxxx

Standing in line for the floo isn't my favorite thing to do.

It honestly isn't.

And this line was taking _forever_. Apparently there are people coming into Hogsmeade and going out of it, and this is the only grate connected to the floo in the entire village for some reason—essentially we are stuck in the middle of a mess.

And Harry wasn't being the slightest bit entertaining for some reason. He's just standing around rocking on his feet. And he's seemed to have developed a tick about wiping his hands on his robes every so often.

Don't know why, he certainly wasn't doing that last week. Maybe it's some technique he's learned at the Academy to seem nervous and put his opponents off-guard?

By the time it was our turn at the grate I nearly sang with relief. Another minute or so and we were back at the Burrow.

I grinned at Mum, waiting for us in the sitting room. "Hello, Mum."

"Hello, dear," she said, pulling me into an enthusiastic hug. "Oh, you've been at school for so long, promise me you'll come straight home at the end of the summer?"

"Mum," I tried not to whine as I eased out of her arms, "You know that I'll be looking for a flat."

"Yes, yes, I know, Ginny, but you can come home for a few weeks first, can't you? There's no reason to go running off right away."

I gave a non-committal noise. Sometimes the best way to argue with Mum is to avoid the question.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for him, she spotted Harry next and squashed him into a hug. I took the opportunity to slip out of the room and out into the backyard.

I was very surprised to find some crepe streamers festooning the trees and an altogether lovely table arrangement, and all my brothers already meandering about. Harry and I weren't often last to these Saturday lunches. Curious but not overly concerned, I wandered over to where Hermione was already sitting with Ron.

"—he's what? That's bullocks, I wanted to go ring-shopping with him—"

Ron suddenly quieted as his head rather comically flashed toward Hermione's face, then looked up to see me, then focused beyond me. Curious at his red face, I turned to the sound of an exasperated sigh and found Harry and Mum standing behind me, both wearing murderous looks.

Why do I feel like those glares have something to do with the decorations that are hung about?

I turned again to a tomato-red Ron—and a beaming Hermione—to find that all my brothers were suddenly paying a great deal of attention to me. Bill cleared his throat and motioned subtly for me to turn around.

So I did, with much more caution than I had used so far today, and thank Merlin I did.

Because what I found was Harry-Freaking-Potter on one knee.

With a little black box open in his hand.

And something that was rather sparkly inside it.

I reminded myself to breathe, and it seemed that Harry was attempting to do the same.

"Ginny," he said, his voice slightly shaky, "I…I meant to do this a little later, but—"

He blushed, shrugged, then he took a deep breath and started again. "Gin, all this time without you just makes me think about how I don't like being without you—in fact, I hate being without you, and, if it's okay with you, I don't want to be without you ever again." He locked eyes with me and offered the ring. "Marry me, Gin, please."

"I…erm…yes," I said, fumbling for the word but nodding for good measure.

Nothing was better than the smile that graced Harry's face at that moment.

It was so amazing that I couldn't help but smile in response, and I didn't even notice that he had slipped the ring onto my finger.

When I did notice, I had to giggle because he had slipped it onto the wrong hand out of nervousness. I fixed it as he turned bright red and Dad started snapping pictures.

Sometimes I really am glad that I got him that new muggle camera.

The grin was plastered onto my face as the rest of the day passed in a blur of family, food, and showing everyone my beautiful new ring.

Although I think Ron may have been studying it for more reasons than just how it looked on my finger.

Of course, I might have gotten that impression from how Hermione commented six times on her preference for princess-cut diamonds.

xxxx

I hope you liked it! Please review :)

Also, I will probably start a series of one-shots at some point. When I do, I'll post something here to let you guys know. Thanks for reading _Algebra_!


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